


Sugar and Spice

by authorette



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: F/F, I’ve officially lost my mind, Prompt Response, although I am certain this is not what you had in mind, fake dating au, great british bakeoff AU, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2020-10-26 01:21:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 35,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20733899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/authorette/pseuds/authorette
Summary: When Tracy enters Vanessa on the Great British Bakeoff, Charity takes the opportunity to pretend to be her girlfriend to get the Woolpack on TV. But she’s not counting on how something that’s supposed to be pretend can turn real when you’re not paying attention.AKA the fake dating/GBBO AU that literally no one asked for.





	1. Part I: Style Over Substance

**Author's Note:**

> Believe it or not, this started as a prompt response. Blurryoz on tumblr asked for prompt 7: why are you doing this? I apologise sincerely for this self-indulgent nonsense, but it’s the longest thing I’ve been inspired to write in months so now I’m making you suffer through this with me.
> 
> Non-Brits: you may find it helpful to watch a clip of GBBO before you read this - it’s not essential for content but might give some context. Don’t expect to find an explanation for why we go mad for watching ten people watch their ovens for an hour every week, it’s not something that can be explained rationally.

**Part I: Style Over Substance**

When she looks back on it later, it’s not entirely clear to Charity how it happened. How she ended up here, on this picnic blanket with Johnny on her lap, Moses running hysterically around them, Noah perched beside her with his leg jiggling, Tracy obsessively checking her makeup in the mirror on the bench behind them, and her own heart in her throat, worrying obsessively about bloody cake.

What she does know, however, is that it’s all Tracy’s fault.

*** 

_March _

Charity looks up as the door slams open and a small yellow ball of fury marches into the pub, briefly surveying the early-evening punters and then narrowing in on who she’s looking for, sitting at the end of the bar close to where Charity is doing a crossword.

“You!” she says so loudly several conversations stop, and Charity puts her pencil down because this looks like it’s going to be fun. 

Tracy looks up from her fish and chips. David beside her freezes with his pint half way to his mouth. “Vee?”

“Don’t you _Vee_ me!” Vanessa exclaims. “Can you explain why I’ve got my hands full of Mr Peterson’s Pomeranian’s gall bladder, when Pearl tells me that Channel 4 is on the phone for me?”

Tracy lets out an ungodly squeal, making Charity flinch. 

“Oh my _god_, I _knew_ you’d get picked!”

Vanessa steps closer, face like thunder. Charity pulls out a packet of crisps: nothing makes her hungrier than watching other people argue. Especially if for once she isn’t involved.

“So it was you?” Vanessa growls. “I did think only one person I know would send in an audition tape on my behalf without telling me!”

“Come on, Vanessa!” Tracy whines, still beaming from ear to ear. “Your cakes are _amazing_. And after that ginger caramel cake you made at Christmas David and I just thought –“

“Leave me out of this,” David says quickly, holding up his hands.

“You’re _way_ better than those idiots on TV! You’re so talented!”

“Tracy, I don’t _want_ to be on television!” Vanessa exclaims. “I get nervous speaking at a conference with ten other people in the room!”

Rolling her eyes and sighing dramatically, Tracy looks around for support. “Charity!” she exclaims, and Charity pauses with a mouthful of ready salted. “You’ve had Vanessa’s baking! Don’t you think she’s good enough to be on Bakeoff?”

Charity has eaten quite a few of Vanessa’s cakes over the years. Much to Marlon’s chagrin, they’ve become somewhat of a hot commodity in the village, and he was most put out when Paddy asked Vanessa to make his last birthday cake rather than him.

“To be fair,” she she says, swallowing her mouthful, “you do make a good red velvet.”

Vanessa scowls. “You are absolutely no help,” she tells Charity, before huffily collapsing on a bar stool. “I’m not doing it,” she says. “I’m not going to the audition.”

*** 

_ April _

Charity’s waving off the drayman one crisp, wet morning in April when she sees headlights parked down the road. There’s never usually anyone about this time in the morning, and she squints to see the car. It’s blue, and vaguely rounded, and despite the cold she hurries over the street and knocks on the window. 

Vanessa, who is staring at her phone as if in a trance, jumps satisfyingly before winding the window down. “Give me a heart attack why don’t you,” she mutters. “Everything ok?”

“Just meeting the drayman and saw your car. Bit early for you isn’t it?”

“How’s that any of your business?”

Holding her hands up in surrender, Charity steps back. “Excuse me for checking on a neighbour. I’ll just let you get back to staring into nothing in peace.”

“Sorry!” Vanessa sighs, head leaning back. “I had a call-out and then I checked my phone and had a voicemail from the producers. I had that second audition the other week and now they want me on that show.”

Leaning back down, Charity puts her hands on the open window. “So Tracy wore you down, did she?”

Sighing deeply again, Vanessa lets her head drop forward. “I figured it was the easiest way to shut her up. I never thought I’d get picked, there were so many people there!”

“Well, are you going to do it?” Charity hasn’t ever spoken much to Vanessa beyond general pub banter, but the idea of someone from their little village being on TV is quite exciting. Even if it is only a stupid baking show.

Vanessa looks at her, indecision written across her face. “I don’t know. I didn’t think I wanted to, but then…”

“But then you were faced with the prospect of weeks of filming with Sandi Toksvig and your gay heart can’t bear to miss out on that?”

“Oh, give over,” Vanessa replies, face pulling into a scowl.

Laughing, Charity leans further into the car. She’s been watching Vanessa’s parade of tinder blind dates with a mixture of amusement and pity ever since she decided to give it a go with women.

“You know I’m only teasing.” Charity’s been there, dating women in a place this small, and she knows the looks you can get sometimes. “And hey, maybe being on TV will let you meet a proper hottie and not just what’s left at the bottom of the Hotten gay barrel.”

“Charming.” Still, it makes Vanessa huff out a little laugh. “You know, I don’t think I ever said, but I appreciated what you did the first time I brought a date to the pub.”

Shrugging, Charity looks off into the distance, focusing on village beginning to stir. She finds it difficult, sometimes, to talk to people when they’re being so sincere. “Forget it.”

Vanessa leans out of the window. “No, I mean it. I wish I was more like you, what you said that day. That it’s all the same, gender. Would have wasted a lot less time.”

Scuffing her shoe along the road, Charity shrugs again. She hadn’t really done much, just told the village busy bodies to back off a bit, when they were getting all up in Vanessa’s business.

“Hey, if you get on TV, you can thank me by giving a shout out to your local!” They could really do with an increase in business, especially since Charity’s disastrous last one night stand who had cleaned out their till before he left. And he hadn’t even been any good in bed.

Vanessa laughs. “Deal.”

***  
_May_

“Swings!” cries Moses at the top of his lungs, leaping into the nearest puddle with his dinosaur wellies.

Sighing, Charity glances at her watch. “Yeah, alright, but only for a wee bit, ok?” She hopes the playground has dried from the rain shower this morning or she’ll have to change him again when they get home. Spring is such a mucky time.

But when they get to the playground, there’s someone already there. What looks like a film crew is crowded around the swing set, and Charity can hear crying.

“Johnny!” Moses calls enthusiastically, and sprints around the cables and the man holding the microphone over to where Vanessa is pushing a red-faced Johnny on the swings.

“Cut,” a woman in a black blazer shouts, sounding exasperated. “Let’s take a break.”

Charity stalks over there Moses has clambered onto the swing. “What’s all this then?”

Vanessa sighs. “They’re shooting background stuff for the show. You know, _meet Vanessa, single mum with no hobbies and no love life_.”

Charity tilts her head. “You’re a vet! Can’t they just film you holding some animals?” 

Wiping at Johnny’s runny nose, Vanessa glances over her shoulder at the crew. “We tried filming at the vets, but Paddy and Pearl were there…”

Charity shudders. “I take it that went about as well as you would expect.”

“Worse.” Vanessa strokes Johnny’s head. “Tracy was supposed to be in these shots, but her and David had a massive barney so she left me hanging.” She looks close to tears. “We’ve got about a million shots of me and Johnny but they say they need something else, otherwise it’s dead boring.” She looks up at the sky. “Everyone is going to hate me.”

“Stop being melodramatic, babe, that’s more my forte than yours,” Charity says.

“Babe?” 

Charity turns round to face the blazer-wearing woman who has appeared beside them. 

“Is this your girlfriend, Vanessa?” The woman’s face has lit up. “Or, sorry, partner? Wife?”

“No,” Vanessa says, at the same time as Charity says “Yes.”

“Charity!” Vanessa exclaims.

“Sorry, _babe_.” Charity’s mind is whirling, a plot is coming together quickly. “It’s quite new,” she tells the woman who she assumes is the producer.

“We _love_ the gays on bakeoff,” the woman exclaims, her earlier glum expression gone completely. “Don’t we, Robbie?”

Robbie, who appears to be the camera man, nods solemnly. 

“And we don’t have a lesbian yet this year!” She seems utterly delighted.

“Great!” Charity pretends to think. “Hey, I own the local pub in the village. Why don’t you come and shoot some scenes there?”

“Perfect!” The woman turns to the crew and begins directing them and Vanessa tugs on Charity’s arm.

“What the hell?” she hisses. “Why are you doing this?”

Charity leans down a little so she can whisper back. “It’s win win! You get to have a hottie as your girlfriend and I get to have my pub on TV!”

Jaw dropping open, Vanessa uncrosses her arms. “We can’t go on TV and lie!”

“Why not?” Charity opens her arms wide. “People do it all the time! No one wants reality, babe, they want a better world.”

“And this is better, is it?” Vanessa helps Johnny out of the child swing. “Pretending to be a couple so you can get some publicity?”

“And you don’t look like a saddo who can’t get a date!” The pitch of her voice rises; sure, she’s doing this for the Woolpack but it’s not like Vanessa’s getting nothing out of it. “You get to broadcast that you’re gay and can bake a fine cake to the world, then when you go out three weeks in-“

“Charming vote of confidence there!”

“-you just say the pressure got to our relationship, you’re single and looking, and they’ll be queuing up to be your rebound.”

“I’m not that desperate,” Vanessa mutters, but she’s biting her lip and Charity has always been good at persuading people. She can tell she’s almost won.

“Please,” she tries. Vanessa’s a helper, she knows that. “The pub’s really struggling and Debbie’s not been able to work much with Sarah being unwell and I really want to be able to help her financially and-“

“Fine!” Throwing her hands up, Vanessa surrenders. “Fine.”

*** 

“Let’s try another one,” Alice the producer shouts. “Charity, why don’t you come out of the pub holding the pints this time, and the sit on the bench next to Vanessa, then you two toast each other.”

“Make sure you’ve got the pub sign in every shot,” Charity hisses at the camera guy as she passes him.

At least she knows she’s looking good today: her tightest jeans, a red shirt and black blazer. And she knows the takes are getting better.

At first, Vanessa looked like she’d swallowed a stick, she was so damn uptight. But Charity snuck her a cheeky shot of whisky (_ “I can’t!” “Yes you can!”_) and things have been improving since. The boys are playing together out of shot, and they’ve had a few good takes already.

As they’re finishing the current take, Charity improvises and reaches for Vanessa’s hand which is lying on the table between them. She feels Vanessa jump like she’s been shocked, but Charity keeps holding it until they hear ‘cut’.

“You guys make an adorable couple,” Alice tells them. “I think that’s a wrap for now, but if you get past week five we’ll need to come back and shoot more.”

Vanessa nods, relief all over her face at the fact that filming is over for the day. “Alright, thanks.” She lets out a long breath as Alice moves away to make a phone call, and runs her fingers through her hair.

“So, are you my new stepmum?” a voice asks behind them.

“Noah!” Charity looks around but the crew are packing up and can’t hear them. “Why aren’t you in school?”

“Because it’s half past four?” He sidles up to Vanessa. “So are you moving into the pub or are we moving in with you?”

Panicked, Vanessa widens her eyes at Charity. “Noah, you know your mum and I aren’t really…I mean, we’re not _actually_ a couple.”

“Oh _yeah_!” Charity rolls her eyes at his antics, watching the fake realisation spread over his face. “That’s right. I forgot for a minute that you guys never speak and you were on a date with someone else last week.” He cups his fingers around his chin in fake thoughtfulness. “But wait! How come you told those guys with the cameras that you _were_ a couple?”

“Alright.” Charity’s had enough. “What are you after?”

“You’re going on that baking show, right?”

Vanessa’s eyes widen. “That’s supposed to be a secret! Everyone’s had to sign non disclosure agreements!”

Noah shrugs. “I’ve not signed anything. And the way I see it, I can either forget that you’re not actually dating my mum, or I can go and tell those nice camera people the truth.”

“He is definitely your son,” Vanessa growls, giving Charity a dirty look. “Are all you Dingles like this?”

Half proud, half annoyed, Charity quirks her head. “Are you actually trying to blackmail us?”

“All I want is to be your taste tester.” He crosses his arms. “You’ll be baking loads to practice, right?”

Vanessa nods silently.

“Well, consider me as having dibs on all cakes.”

“That’s it?” Appalled, Charity stares at her son. “Have I taught you nothing?”

Noah shrugs. “Have you _tried_ Vanessa’s lemon drizzle? I had it at Jacob’s the other day and it was amazing!”

“You’d think we don’t feed you over here.” Charity is a little outraged. But then she sees the relief in Vanessa’s face and her annoyance fade.

“Fine.” Vanessa bends down to pick up Johnny. “I’ll need to do lots of practice bakes anyway.” She looks at Charity and there’s a hint of a uncertainty in her face. “So I’ll see you around then?”

“What, no goodbye kiss?” Charity sends her a wink and ignores Noah’s fake gagging beside her.

Blushing, Vanessa rolls her eyes and heads across the road, Johnny in tow.

“What was that about?” she asks her son as they watch Vanessa put Johnny down to unlock the door.

“Shouldn’t that be my question?” Noah asks. “Why are you fake going out with Vanessa?”

“To get a bit of publicity so we don’t go bankrupt and become homeless,” she replies glibly. “And I’m talking about you going easy on Vanessa. Since when are you nice to people for no reason?”

Noah shrugs. “I like cake. And it would be cool if someone from Emmerdale was famous, wouldn’t it?”

“Hmm.” She glances across the street again, at Vanessa trying to persuade Johnny to come inside and not take whatever it is he’s just picked up off there ground with him. Her hair is coming out of her ponytail and her face is pink from the cool spring air. 

Charity supposes she does have a face for TV. She just hopes Vanessa manages to stay on the show long enough for the pub to get a decent plug.


	2. Part II: On Your Marks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who’s read the first chapter and hasn’t run for the hills! You’re all so lovely :)
> 
> I had a basic outline of the whole thing written but as I’m proof reading it I keep adding scenes so this is unlikely to now be only four chapters - oops! Who knew there was so much to write about cake! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy, part III won’t be too long.

**Part II: On Your Marks **

_ Cake week_

A few weeks later, Charity’s only just opened on a Monday morning and the pub is dead. The lunch regulars will be another half an hour and she’s honestly looking forward to a bit of peace and quiet, when the door swings open and Tracy and Vanessa walk in.

“We need to go today!” Tracy is saying as she tags behind Vanessa, her voice whining. “It’s next weekend!”

“Yes, and if the cake is no good, then no one is going to give a toss about what I’m wearing!” 

“Yes they are!” Tracy’s voice goes so high Charity winces. “How are you ever going to get a date if you’re going on TV in knitwear?”

“Ah, is the big day finally here? Ready, steady, bake?” Charity puts down her crossword. She hasn’t seen too much of Vanessa recently and kept meaning to ask Tracy when the show was going to be on TV. Business has been slow, still, and Chas is stressing about the numbers pretty much on a weekly basis.

Vanessa sighs and places two boxes on the bar before dragging herself onto a stool. “Filming starts Saturday and I am so stressed, I have no idea why I’m doing this.”

Tracy slides onto the stool next to her. “Because you’re going to win, and get a sexy girlfriend and be famous.”

Vanessa groans. “I can’t even pick what cake I’m going to make in the first round, I’m never going to make it through to the end.”

Charity peers down at the boxes. “What’s this then?”

Vanessa pushes one of them towards Charity. “Practice cakes, for Noah.”

“Oh.” She pops the lid and looks inside; two perfectly shaped pieces of iced cake are wedged inside. Something uncomfortable rears in her stomach. “Look, Vanessa, you know you don’t have to do this. He was just messing with you, he wouldn’t actually rat us out.” At least, she’s pretty sure he wouldn’t. 

Shrugging, Vanessa sighs. “Well, I need someone to help me decide so it might as well be him. Can you ask him to let me know which one he likes best? I’m taking a poll.”

“She needs to make a sandwich cake for her first signature bake and won’t bloody pick one,” Tracy complains. “And until she does she won’t go shopping with me so I can put her in something less horrendous.”

“What’s wrong with this?” Vanessa tugs at her yellow jumper, and Tracy gives Charity an eye roll.

“Can you talk some sense into her? You know, since you’re apparently dating now?” Tracy raises her eyebrows so high her eyes almost come out of her head, her tone mocking.

“Er, we wouldn’t have had to do that if you’d actually showed up for filming,” Vanessa grumps, still looking down at her jumper.

“Why don’t you just make a Victoria sponge?” Charity asks. “It’s a classic!”

Tracy gasps. “Are you trying to sabotage her?”

“I like a Victoria sponge!” They used to have it at Zach’s all the time when she was younger.

Tracy gives her the dirtiest of looks. “Come on Vee, time to go.” 

Vanessa gives Charity a long-suffering look, before following Tracy; then she doubles back, grabbing Charity’s pencil out of her hand and writing a number in the corner of her paper before she can object. “Text me how he likes the cake, yeah?” 

The minute she’s gone, Charity whips round and snags a fork from the cutlery bin. Noah won’t know he had two slices if she only presents him with one, and who is it hurting anyway?

“You’re in a surprisingly chipper mood all of a sudden” Chas says behind her, then her eyes widen. “Where did you get that?”

Charity grins smugly. “I’ve only gone and gotten the Woolie on the UK’s biggest TV show?”

“Misdsomer Murders?” Chas asks, and Charity rolls her eyes in disgust.

“What has Paddy done to you?” She takes her first bite of the cake and closes her eyes as the flavour hits her: it’s light and sweet with a hint of citrus, and a rich white chocolate buttercream melts in her mouth.

That Vanessa really knows how to make a cake, she’ll give her that.

“When you’re finished having sex with that cake, are you going to tell me?” Chas snarks impatiently.

“I’m going to be on Bakeoff!”

Chas hesitates for a moment, then bursts out laughing. 

“What?” Charity puts down the box and the fork. “I am!”

“You burn _toast_!” Chas cackles. “And now you’re telling me you’re going to make cakes on TV?”

“I didn’t say I was _baking_, did I?” She picks the fork back up and slides it through the slice, making sure to get all the layers on at once. “Vanessa’s going to be on it, and I’m going to be her fake girlfriend!”

Chas tilts her head, rubbing her hand over her bump. “I think I’m going to need a cup of tea for this. And some of that cake as well. I can see you hogging it, and if this is going where I think it’s going, I’m going to need it a lot more than you do.”

*** 

Despite Chas’s misgivings (_Someone is bound to blab once the show airs that you’re not actually together_), Charity is feeling good about the plan. In all honesty, it feels good just to have a plan.

She’s been stressed about the money situation for months, feeling utterly useless. And everything’s being going on at once: first Joe coming to the village and stealing Noah away, trying to mess with them, making Debbie fall for him only to break her heart, leaving without saying goodbye, Sarah needing a transplant, that asshole stealing from them…

And through all of it, Charity’s felt like she’s drowning without a lifeboat in sight. She keeps kicking and fighting but getting nowhere. And what’s the point, when it’s unlikely anyone is going to come and pull her out anyway? She’s always had to make it to shore on her own, only this time she’d thought that maybe the shore was too far off to make it.

But this is good. This is something. People go mad for local celebrities here: she remembers the crowds queuing at the shopping centre last year to meet that woman from Hotten who went on Location Location Location. 

All she needs to do now is make sure Vanessa stays in, and keeps on message.

She’s never really watched Bakeoff before, although Chas sometimes has it on in the background, but she does some investigating and it’s pretty baffling, how many people get into a show about cake.

And once they see the Woolie on TV, they’ll be queueing out the door.

She doesn’t see Vanessa in the pub again that week and learns from Tracy that she’s going crazy baking her signature and showstopper cake over and over again. Charity can’t even make an Aunt Betty mix without ruining it so she keeps well out of that, but when she’s taking the bins out on Friday afternoon and sees Tracy holding Johnny over by Tug Ghyll and Vanessa carrying clothes bags to her car, she hurries over.

She personally enjoys Tracy’s adventurous sense of fashion; Emmerdale is fairly drab and boring in that way otherwise, but this is about Vanessa making the village and the pub look good, and she suddenly has visions of Vanessa meeting Paul Hollywood in leopard print or something.

“Hey!” she shouts, hurrying over. “You off?”

Vanessa nods, depositing the bag in the back of her tiny car. “Yep. It’s almost a four hour drive and I don’t want to get there too late.”

“Can I come, Mummy?” Johnny pipes up, and the corners of Vanessa’s mouth turn down.

“We talked about this, Johnny!” Tracy says, deliberate cheer in her voice, bouncing him gently on her hip. “Your Mummy has to go and bake a cake for some very important people, and you need to look after me while I’m away, ok?”

He nods, turning his head into Tracy’s neck, and Vanessa strokes his back. “I’ll be back before you know it,” she tells him, trying for the same tone as Tracy but only half managing it.

“I’m going to take him inside.” Tracy hugs Vanessa with her free arm. “Easier if he doesn’t see you drive away.”

Vanessa nods, turning to the side to wipe her eyes, then kisses the top of his head. 

Charity looks down at her feet. There’s something about this, about the tender affection between them, that makes her throat ache. Charity knows she’s screwed up with her own kids, that there’s a reason why Moses can’t wait to go to Ross’s, why Noah moved to Joe’s. She’s not daft. The mothering gene, or skill, or whatever it is, didn’t get passed to her when she got given her babies. But Vanessa seems to have it in spades.

“God,” Vanessa says thickly when the door closes behind Tracy, “I didn’t think it would be so hard to leave him.”

Feeling oddly affected by the whole scene, Charity swallows hard and puts her hands in her pockets. “Right,” she says, pulling herself together. “Are you all set?”

Vanessa shrugs. “As much as I can be, I guess?” 

Charity nods. “Don’t forget to plug the pub.”

“Don’t worry, when they ask me to dedicate my cake to someone I’ll thank you.”

Charity stares at her. “They dedicate cake?” What a bunch of weirdos.

“No!” Vanessa rolls her eyes. “Don’t you think I’ve already done enough, letting you fake date me?”

“Er, are you suggesting I got the better end of that bargain?” 

Vanessa laughs a little. “I need to get going.”

“Wait!” The reason she came over springs back to her mind. “What are you wearing?”

Vanessa looks down at herself, then back up. “Have you lost your sight or something?”

“I mean on TV!” 

“Oh.” Vanessa looks down, looking a little awkward. “Tracy made be buy this shirt. It’s a but clingier than I would normally wear but-“

“Show me.” 

Vanessa sighs but pulls out her phone, flicking through the photos before handing it to Charity.

“Well, well, so there _is_ a body under all that wool!”

“Charity!” Despite her fake outrage, Charity can she see she’s pleased; the corners of her mouth twitch and her cheeks flush.

“It’s a compliment!” And she means it, too. The clingy blue fabric curves around Vanessa, and even in the unflattering light of what is clearly a changing room, she looks good in the picture. “You should pop another button, though.”

Still pink, Vanessa shakes her head a little. “Oh, I’m not sure-“

“I am.” Charity leans closer, holding the phone back out to her. “If you’ve got it, flaunt it, as they say.” Plus a bit of cleavage won’t hurt to keep her in.

Clearly flustered, Vanessa grabs the phone and almost drops it, fumbling her fingers round the edges. “I’d better go,” she says, eyes avoiding Charity’s, and Charity has to bite back a laugh.

If this is how Vanessa reacts at even the slightest hint of flirtation from a woman, it’s no wonder those dates in the pub have gone nowhere fast.

“Good luck,” she calls after her, hoping Vanessa manages to pull herself together before tomorrow. 

*** 

It’s near closing time on Sunday when Vanessa comes into the pub, as Charity is collecting the empties from the tables the Dingles had pushed together earlier. 

Vanessa’s not one to get dolled up on a daily basis so Charity’s not used to seeing her all glam: hair curled, full face of makeup, strong lipstick. She looks good, surprisingly good. 

And although she’s clearly tired, she’s smiling, which Charity takes that as good news. “Well?” she asks. “Star Baker?”

“Shhh!” Vanessa looks around quickly but no one is listening to them; it’s half dead anyway. “You can’t go round saying stuff like that until they’ve revealed who’s on the show, they’re super strict about spoilers. We got a half hour lecture on it yesterday!”

Rolling her eyes, Charity dramatically lower her voice to a whisper. “Copy that, Agent Woodfield. Now, has the eagle landed?”

Vanessa’s mouth twitches into a smile despite her attempt at strictness. “I’m through to the next round!” bursts out of her, before she clamps a hand over her mouth.

Charity grins. “Well, look at that. Nice work, Woodfield.” She tilts her head. “And did you mention the pub?” 

Vanessa rolls her eyes, wriggling our of her denim jacket. “No, but I did sculpt your face out of fruit cake.”

“What? Really?”

Vanessa rolls her eyes. “No! I’ll give you a plug when I can, but funnily enough they mostly ask about what I’m baking and not where I was drinking the night before.”

Charity huffs. “They’d better show me in the intro bit.”

Vanessa stares at her. “You really are desperate to get on TV, aren’t you?”

“Look around,” Charity says loudly, spreading her arms. “It’s Sunday night and there’s hardly anyone in. 

Biting her lip, Vanessa takes a step forward. “I didn’t realise things were so bad.”

“Yeah, well, we’re hardly going around advertising it.” Charity drops her arms. She doesn’t know why she feels like she can tell Vanessa, but keeping the front up, the one that says everything is alright, feels like too much. “We got robbed, a few weeks ago. Took all our takings for a whole Saturday. And our margins aren’t exactly huge.”

“Oh my god.” Vanessa’s eyes widen. “Were you or Chas here? Is everyone alright?” 

Oddly touched by Vanessa’s genuine concern, Charity nods. She decides not to elaborate that she actually brought the guy in herself. She doesn’t need another ‘you brought this on yourself’ lecture. 

“Yeah, we’re fine. Just need to try and make up the business.”

Vanessa nods, squaring her shoulders. “Ok,” she says. “Ok, I’ll help.”

She definitely has a saviour complex. But before Charity can respond, she realises what Vanessa’s wearing. “I see you took my advice on the button?”

Vanessa smirks at her. “Well, apparently I’ve ‘got it’, so…”

Delighted at the backbone Vanessa has apparently grown over the last forty eight hours, Charity opens her mouth to banter back, when Tracy and Frank in the corner finally notice who has come in.

“Vanessa!” From their grins, Charity surmises they already know the good news. 

“Pint on the house?” she asks, but Vanessa shakes her head. 

“I’m absolutely shattered. The showstopper was five hours and then I had a four hour drive up the road.” As if to emphasise the point, a yawn bursts out of her. 

“Vee!” Tracy calls impatiently, and Vanessa smiles apologetically and moves over to their table, enveloped in hugs and whispered congratulations. 

“Did she make it?” Noah asks behind her, a packet of crisps in hand. 

“Yeah,” Charity replies, still watching Vanessa as she shrugs off her bag, and gives Charity a smile as she settles into the booth.

“Good,” Noah munches, and Charity nods in agreement.


	3. Part III: The Perfect Rise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may notice that I’ve caved and updated the chapter number. Apparently these two want a full length fic about this nonsense so you’re getting one. Hope you enjoy :)

**Part III: The Perfect Rise**

_Bread week_

“What’s a lady like you doing in a place like this?” the bloke in the England football shirt at the end of the bar drawls at her, and Charity breathes out deeply through her nose in response. It’s not fair that she gets all the creeps now just because Chas is knocked up and disappears through the back to puke every five minutes.

“Well, I own it, so it’s not really all that surprising,” she replies, trying to keep her voice calm. They need to keep customers from other villages coming back; she can’t afford to kick anyone out at the minute. No matter how much she might want to.

The guy’s eyes light up. “Does that mean you’ve got a bed near by?” He winks at her.

On the other hand... She opens her mouth but before she can say something Chas will definitely tell her off for later, a frantic Vanessa rushes in, slamming her palms on the bar as she skids to a halt. “Do you have any yeast?!” 

“Erm, babe, if you’re after Canesten, that’s more a thing you get in the pharmacy, not the pub…”

“For baking, Charity!” Vanessa rolls her eyes. “David sold me the last of his yesterday and apparently the next delivery isn’t until _Thursday_ and my breadsticks won’t work and…”

Charity holds up her hands. “Check with Marlon, take whatever you need, ok?”

Vanessa takes a deep breath. “Thank you so much. I’ve only got this afternoon to practice and I need to figure this out.” She hurries past Charity into the kitchen and she hears Marlon exclaim a greeting.

Charity grins a little to herself. She doesn’t know why she never really spoke to Vanessa before, because she’s good fun. Easy to wind up, but she also has a quick wit. 

Plus her baking obsession is oddly endearing.

“So, how about it?” the bloke calls out to her, irritation on his face at the interruption. “You, me, some of that whisky, your room?” He nods at the shelf behind her, and licks his lips slowly. “You look like you like a good time.”

Charity wrinkles her nose in disgust. “Alright, settle down, yeah, before I kick you out.”

“Oooh.” He winks at her. “Playing hard to get?” He leans forward. “Don’t worry, I know exactly how to handle a woman like you.”

“How about you get out of here before I handle you instead?” 

Charity turns to see Vanessa at the other end of the bar, a small tub of Allinson in her hand, scowling over at the guy.

He leans forward, eyes widening. “What?”

“You heard me.” Vanessa glances at Charity. “You ok?”

Amused, Charity nods. She’s had a lot of people try to defend her non-existent honour over the years but she’s intrigued how Vanessa will play this.

“Who’s this, your body guard?” He looks Vanessa up and down. “No need to feel left out, how about you join us?”

“How about you take your pint and leave her in peace?” Vanessa steps closer. 

“Or what?” He laughs, but rolls his eyes. “Not worth it anyway.” He takes a tenner out of his pocket and chucks it at her, holding his hand out for the change immediately, like he’s worried Charity might abscond with the two pounds seventy two he’s owed, before heading out of the pub.

“Thought you came for yeast and not to scare off my punters?” Charity tilts her head.

Vanessa’s face falls. “Oh, god, sorry! It seemed like you were fed up and I just hate that guys think they can just talk to women like that.”

“I can fight my own battles, Vanessa.” She has done for many years. “I’m not a damsel that needs rescuing.” Her voice has more bite to it than she meant it to and Vanessa’s face falls.

She bites her lower lip and nods, looking sheepish. She heads towards the door, and Charity sighs; she feels like she’s kicked a puppy.

“But thanks anyway,” she calls out at the last minute. She might not need rescuing, but it makes a nice change that someone would try. “Even if you should maybe save the Liam Neeson routine for someone your own size next time.” 

Vanessa beams at her. “I’m not afraid of a challenge,” she jokes before she leaves, and Charity shakes her head, amused. She’s beginning to think that might be true.

*** 

Four hours later, Charity is so bored she’s actually engaging Jimmy in conversation. 

The pub is dead. Since the factory made redundancies her usually reliable village crowd has not been coming in for their daily pint after work and the pub is really feeling it. In the last hour, she’s pulled a grand total of one pint and Jimmy is nursing it like it’s his first born.

So when the door opens she turns eagerly, hoping to see a crowd who want drinks and maybe even food.

But instead, a little blonde boy toddles in, and holding his hand and a large basket is Vanessa.

“Back again?” Charity tilts her head. “What’re you after this time? Flour? Chocolate chips?”

“You, actually.” Vanessa’s still smiling. “Can I borrow you for a minute?”

Charity hesitates but she’s _so_ bored, and there’s practically no one in. “Let’s head through the back.”

Vanessa rounds the bar, shifting the basket in her arms. Johnny looks up at Charity and grins. “Hello.”

Charity can’t help but grin back; he’s so like his mother with his yellow T-shirt and his wide smile.

“Hello, Master Woodfield.”

He giggles shyly and looks up at Vanessa, who encourages him to follow Charity.

“So, what’s all this about then?” she asks as they get to the back room, crossings her arms; Vanessa doesn’t seem particularly combative but she’s not about to be caught off guard.

Vanessa moves around her to the dining table and puts down the basket, folding open the lid and taking out the contents.

Piles and piles of breadsticks emerge, each in glasses which have been labelled in small, neat handwriting. _Sea salt and pepper. Rosemary and thyme. Olive and herb. Chorizo and chilli. _

“What-“

“You need to try them all.” Vanessa finishes setting the last of the sticks on the table next to tiny bowls of different coloured sauces, and steps back, nodding to herself. “Can’t very well say on TV I’m baking your favourite breadsticks if you haven’t tried them, can I?”

Charity raises her eyebrows. “So you have no problem with the lying about me being your girlfriend part but lying about the breadsticks is over the line?”

Vanessa quirks her mouth a little. “Well, it _is_ a baking show.”

“You’re absolutely bonkers.” Still, Charity steps closer. She didn’t really have a proper lunch and they do look properly tasty.

“Can I play with this?” a little voice pipes up beside them. Charity looks down at Johnny clutching one of Moses’ trucks. He’s very polite, and delicate with toys, Charity notes. He holds the truck carefully in his arms, not like Moses who will bang his things around like they’re indestructible most of the time. 

“Sure. Moz is still at the childminder’s anyway.” She watches his face light up in response, and he drops to the floor, making soft truck noises as he plays.

Vanessa watches him with a soft look on her face. “I didn’t send him today after nursery. It would probably have been easier to bake without him but not getting to see him on weekends is really hard.” Then she winces. “Oh, sorry, I know you and Ross-“

“Nah.” She shrugs, as casually as she can manage. “It’s all good. Everyone knows I’m a crap mum anyway.”

“That’s not true!” Vanessa frowns but before she can say any more, Chas comes in from the hall.

“What’re you doing back here?” she asks sharply. “Who’s serving?”

“There’s about two people out there, babe.” Charity takes one of the rosemary and thyme sticks and crunches down. “Mmh, these are good!”

Chas steps closer. “What’s all this?”

Vanessa hesitates, but Charity quickly shakes her head. “It’s ok, she knows,” she munches.

“Charity!” Vanessa turns to her, exasperated. “I told you it was a secret!”

“It’s ok, love, I won’t tell.” Chas leans past them and grabs one of the lemon breadsticks. “Though why you agreed to this nonsense I’ll never know.”

Vanessa shrugs. “It’s actually quite nice. All the other contestants are married or have partners and when we sit together in the evenings it’s nice to not feel left out.” She shakes her head. “God, I sound pathetic.”

“Well, we could certainly do with the help after everything.” Chas takes a bite and nods enthusiastically. “These are well nice!”

Vanessa smiles tentatively. “Yeah, I heard about your break-in. That must have been so scary!”

“Break-in?” Chas turns to Charity in confusion and then realisation slams over her face and her brows draw together.

“Babe-“ Charity tries; for some reason, she doesn’t want Vanessa to know that this is all her fault. Doesn’t want her to judge her like everyone else does.

“You mean when our Charity brought some random bloke back here and let him rob us blind?”

“Chas!” she exclaims.

“I’ll go through and man the bar, shall I?” Chas snags another breadstick. “Good luck this weekend, Vanessa.”

Then she’s gone, and Charity crosses her arms, ready for whatever snide comment will undoubtably come her way now. “Well, out with it.” She squares her jaw, then looks up at Vanessa. “I had it coming for being such a slag. It’s all my fault we lost all that money. How could I be so stupid?” She’s almost shouting now. She’s so sick of being judged all the time, of feeling guilty for everything she does.

Vanessa tilts her head. “I was actually going to say, I’m really sorry that happened to you. It must have been really scary.”

“What?” Charity stares at her. 

“You trusted him enough to bring him back here and he did that.” Vanessa shakes her head. “I’d be a mess if that happened to me.”

Wind totally out of her sails, Charity stares at her. “Not going to tell me I had it coming?”

A horrified look crosses Vanessa’s face. “What? Why would I say something like that?”

Charity shrugs. “People say that and worse to me all the time.”

“Doesn’t make it right.” Vanessa shakes her head. “Anyway I’m not any position to judge. Before Johnny I wasn’t exactly a saint.”

Charity’s heard about it, of course. In this village nothing stays hidden for long. The uncertainty about paternity. The brief fling with Rhona. She always had a little trouble picturing it; Vanessa’s always quite buttoned up.

“Not that I’ve been having much luck in that department recently,” Vanessa mumbles, then looks up and blushes. “God, I don’t know why I just said that.”

Charity grabs another breadstick, crunching down. “What d’you mean? I’ve seen you in the pub with all those lesbians.”

“All those- I’ve been on three dates!” Vanessa splutters. 

“No spark with any of them?” Charity asks. She’s not usually curious like this; people in this village hop from bed to bed like it’s a party game all the time, and she generally only pays attention when it’s to her benefit. But she’s becoming curious about Vanessa, about what makes her tick. 

“Not really.” Vanessa sinks onto one of the dining chairs. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

Charity shrugs. “Maybe because I’m one of the only people in the village who’s been there?”

Vanessa gives her a shy look from under her loose strands of hair. “Yeah, I heard about, you know…”

“Paddy has a big mouth.” But she’s not annoyed, not really. Vanessa isn’t giving her that look that people usually get, that down-their-nose judgement. She just looks a bit lost.

“I just really thought, now that I’m going for it, admitting to myself it’s what I want, to date women, it would all fall into place.”

Charity laughs a little. “Oh, babe, I hate to break it to you, but women are just as shitty as men.”

Letting our a long sigh, Vanessa leans back. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“That’s what I’m known for.” She looks at Vanessa’s dejected face and sighs. “Look, you’ll find someone, ok? You’re a TV baker, you have a constant access to cute animals and you’re not bad looking.”

“Gee thanks.” But Vanessa does laugh a little, her eyes crinkling. It’s kind of fun, how easy it is to pull her out of a sulk with a compliment or two.

They look at each other for a minute, and suddenly the atmosphere feels kind of weird. Like there’s something Charity’s forgotten to say. She looks down at the table and quickly points at the herb breadsticks. “And as for these, those are definitely the best ones.”

“Thanks,” Vanessa smiles. Somehow, Charity thinks she doesn’t just mean for the baking input.

***   
_ Guess what?_ comes through on her phone late Sunday afternoon. 

She’s flicking through the channels, trying to get enthused about anything that’s on, and has stopped on an old bakeoff rerun for some reason.

Before she can type a response, another message lights up the screen.

_I’m through! Paul said the flavours of my breadsticks were subtle but delicious!_

_Subtle? You? _ she replies, but finds herself grinning stupidly. She tells herself it’s just because Noah will be pleased and because she’s looking forward to more samples. 

Because it’s definitely not because Vanessa’s excitement is contagious, or because she’s excited that they might get to spend more time together.

That would be ridiculous.


	4. Part IV: The Way The Cookie Crumbles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who continues to encourage me in this made endeavour, your comments are much appreciated! :)

**Part IV: The Way The Cookie Crumbles **

_ Biscuit Week_

_I need an honest opinion_ flashes up on Charity’s screen as she’s having her post-lunch cup of tea the next week.

She smiles a little, putting down her mug. Her and Vanessa have been texting off and on since Vanessa got through last weekend. Mostly silly things: Charity passing on Noah’s semi-petulant question of whether there’d be more sweet stuff this week (he’d been less than impressed by the breadsticks); Vanessa sending her pictures of her kitchen covered in shortbread.

_If the question is ‘do you wear too many jumpers’ I defer to Tracy’s answer_ she shoots back. 

_Haha, hilarious_. The three dots reappear and Charity grins, taking another sip.

She enjoys this, she’s surprised to note. Texting with someone who might be becoming something akin to a friend. Charity doesn’t really speak to anyone she’s not related to in a non-pub capacity these days, unless she’s in the shop or café or something, and it’s a nice change. To have banter without the weight of forty years of disappointments on each side. 

_Does this look like a cow to you?_ Vanessa sends, followed by a picture of what appears to be a pile of biscuits, decorated neatly with icing in different shades of beige and brown.

Charity rotates her phone slowly, 360 degrees, but no cow becomes apparent. With a bit of imagination, she supposes the upper pile of biscuits could potentially be head, but then from a different angle it looks more like one of Moses’ Thunderbird toys.

_Maybe if I had a visual impairment?_ she replies, then wishes she could take it back. She’s trying to reign her caustic side in a bit; Vanessa’s done nothing to deserve it.

But luckily Vanessa seems to take it as a joke. _Thought so! Tracy said it looked fine but I think she just wanted to eat it!_

_I’ve seen Marlon cook steak that looked more like a cow_ she sends back, followed by a winking emoji with its tongue out, and gets three laughing crying emojis in return.

_Back to the drawing board x_ Vanessa replies.

Charity hesitates. Vanessa doesn’t normally send ‘x’s; she’s not the type. She’s direct, witty, but not the kind of person that ends every message in five kisses.

Maybe it was a slip. Maybe it’s her way of ending the conversation so Charity knows she won’t be replying again? Maybe she is the kind of person who uses ‘x’s after all and Charity just never noticed it before?

Maybe she’s overthinking this a little.

“What’re you staring at?” Noah asks, dropping his school bag so he can pull his shoes back on. 

They’ve been better, the last couple of weeks. It was stilted between them after he came back from Home Farm. She tried to be happy he was home, but the hurt of him moving out in the first place was still there, sharp and jagged in her heart, and every time they spoke it seemed to prod her into saying things she regretted later.

But it’s been better. It’s helped, that they’ve had something to talk about. Charity didn’t even know Noah had ever seen Bakeoff before, but he seems to know a lot about it, and he asks her about updates from Vanessa often. 

Charity’s pretty sure that that’s only ninety percent to do with cake, and ten percent because he genuinely likes Vanessa.

She turns her phone around so he can see the picture. “Vanessa’s working on a biscuit cow for the showstopper.” 

Horror crosses Noah’s face as he takes it from her. “That looks nothing like a cow!” He shakes his head. “She’s never going to make it through biscuit week with something looking like that.”

“Alright, Paul Hollywood!” Charity rolls her eyes. It’s not like Noah’s ever baked anything in his life. “I bet it tastes good though.”

Noah rolls his eyes. “Course it will, but that doesn’t exactly matter on TV, does it? Not like you can see flavour!”

“Well, I’ll be sure to pass these constructive comments on.” Charity drains her mug. “Don’t you have a bus to catch back?”

Noah sighs but grabs his bag. “Tell her not to chuck that one, I’ll eat it later.”

“How are you so skinny?” Still, she taps out the message. 

_You Dingles will eat anything!_ Vanessa replies, and Charity grins, debating sending the dirty response that springs to mind.

“I hope she doesn’t go out,” Noah says casually before he leaves the room. “I like getting dessert every other night.” He pauses. “Plus, it’s nice having her come round, isn’t it?” He gives her a look, but Charity’s only half paying attention as she suddenly realise she what time it is and gets up.

“Better get back through before Chas has my hide!”

“Mum!” he says, sounding frustrated. 

“What?”

He sighs. “Nothing. See you later.”

Such an odd boy, she thinks. But a good one, deep down.

***  
_If you guys want some of this, you’ll have to come over for it_ Vanessa messages her after dinner that night, followed by a picture of a much more cow-shaped gingerbread creation. _The structural integrity is not high_.

The seemingly genuine invitation takes her aback. To be honest, every day Charity’s been expecting Vanessa to say that she needs a break from her and her kids wanting to eat her bakes all the time; that she wants to spend time with her real friends and family. 

But it hasn’t happened. Vanessa seems genuinely pleased to see them and how much they like her bakes. 

Frankly, that’s not a reaction Charity and her kids get very often, so they’re probably taking advantage of Vanessa a bit.

That certainly seems to be what Frank thinks: the last couple of times Vanessa has come into the pub with goodies for them he’s glared at her from the corner like he hoped she might drop dead.

But Vanessa seemed oblivious, and now she’s gone a step further and invited them over.

Noah’s keen, of course: his eyes light up at the idea of yet more dessert, and Moses is just enthused at the idea of seeing more of Johnny.

Those two are a funny pairing. Johnny is quiet and thoughtful while Moses is full of beans and likes to sing at the top of his lungs. But his boisterous nature seems to bring Johnny out of his shell a bit, and yesterday when she was getting Moses from nursery she saw them sitting together and singing ‘Baby Shark’ at the top of their lungs.

So she taps out an affirmative reply and wrangles Moses into his coat.

It’s been a while since she’s been to Tug Ghyll, but the energy is totally different to when she was last here. Every available surface is covered in photos and toddler’s drawings.

It’s very Vanessa.

On the kitchen table stands the biscuit cow, complete with a fence and tufts of grass, all made out of delicately iced biscuits.

Vanessa is in the kitchen area, finishing drying dishes, while Tracy is draped over the tiny sofa, although she sits up when the guests enter.

“I’ll rearrange it, Vee, I promise!” she’s saying, and Vanessa is shaking her head.

“Don’t be daft,” Vanessa replies. “You’ve had it planned for ages and you two deserve to get away. I’ll be fine on my own.” She turns to face the visitors, smiling widely at them, and Charity is again taken slightly aback, because that’s not the facial expression she’s used to inspiring with her kids.

“Johnny!” Moses calls out, pouncing at him, and Tracy lets out a laugh.

“Looks like you’ve got a full house, Vee.” She gives Charity a long look, but then smiles a little, and Charity’s hackles settle.

She knows it must look odd, her and Vanessa becoming friendly, especially after what happened with Frank. But honestly, Charity finds it difficult sometimes to even comprehend that Vanessa is related to Frank: she’s so good and kind without a conniving bone in her body, and Frank is a slippery little weasel. Both of his daughters turned out surprisingly different to him, probably because by the sound of it he wasn’t around to do much damage.

“That’s a much better cow than the one earlier,” Noah is telling Vanessa, and Charity watches her beam on response. 

“Yeah, I switched the sugar glue composition and I think it’s worked. Although I’m not so sure about the icing. Paul’s been really harsh on sloppy icing and I don’t want to run out of time.”

Noah nods, circling the cow. “You could always leave the fence plain, since it’s brown anyway, if you run out of time?”

“That’s a good idea.” Vanessa nods, making a little note in her notepad and Charity smirks. 

“She’s gone baking mad,” Tracy mumbles to Charity as she gets up. “Every time I come over I’m force fed!”

“Well, you only have yourself to blame,” Charity laughs. “You were the one who entered her!”

“I didn’t know she’d take it this seriously!” Tracy squeaks.

Charity shakes her head. “Have you met your sister?” It’s obvious even to Charity, who’s only got to know her recently, that when Vanessa commits to something she’s all in.

“Who wants a bit of cow?” Vanessa asks, and the boys abandon their toys and run to the kitchen, arms waving wildly.

“Good luck getting the kids to bed later,” Tracy remarks, before grabbing her coat. “I’ll call you tomorrow Vee.”

*** 

Noah is sitting with the boys on the floor, letting them drive their cars all over him, and Charity can’t stop watching them. He’s smiling so much, and she can’t remember the last time she saw that.

“Let’s hope they power themselves out or they’ll be going all night,” Vanessa sighs, passing Charity a mug of tea.

It’s milkier than she would normally make it for herself, but it’s got one sugar in it, which means Vanessa was paying attention when she was last over.

Something jolts in her stomach at the thought, that Vanessa knows how she likes her tea. 

She must be PMSing; there’s no other rationale explanation for how weirdly emotional she’s feeling today.

“So, are you all set for the weekend?” Charity blurts out quickly, following her motto of ‘when in doubt, distract yourself and burry any sort of emotion’. 

“Hmm.” Vanessa breaks off a bit of grass and nibbles at it. “I’m feeling ok about it. I make a lot of biscuits.” She snags another crumb, then shakes her head. “But it’s weird. Sometimes you forget that it’s all being filmed and then suddenly you realise there’s a big camera in your face and then I get all flustered again.”

Vanessa stands up as she is saying this and carefully lifts the cow up and off the table and onto the countertop behind her.

And Charity’s attention is immediately caught by what was lying underneath.

“Well, well, where are you off to?” She pulls the catalogue towards herself and begins flicking through the pages that have neat little earmarks on them. 

“Oh, that,” Vanessa groans, falling back into her seat. “I need a dress for the press launch party next week. It’s starting to air on TV the week after.”

Charity stares at the pictures. She can’t remember ever having seen Vanessa in anything like this: low cut, figure hugging. Which is a real shame because Vanessa is actually pretty good looking under all those layers.

“When next week?” she asks.

“Friday.”

Charity quickly runs through her mental schedule. Ross will have Moses. She’s due to be working but that’s never stopped her before. And Noah will be fine for a night. “I’ll clear my schedule.”

Vanessa stares at her. “Clear your-“

“Although next time you could maybe give a girl a bit of notice?”

“…a bit of notice?” Vanessa’s eyes are very wide. “You want to come?”

Charity raises an eyebrow. “I’m your girlfriend aren’t I?” She tilts her head. “Why? Have you got another date already?”

The thought gives her an unexpected pang in the stomach. 

“Well, I thought Tracy might come but her and David have a weekend getaway she got him for his birthday and it’s been booked for ages…”

“Well, then, that’s settled, isn’t it?” Charity nods to herself. “And what better way to promote the Woolpack than going to a fancy TV party, eh? Oooh, maybe I can get us on one of their other shows as well!”

“Like what? First Dates: Yorkshire Edition?”

“Why not?” She narrows her eyes playfully. “Then you can be the first candidate.” 

Vanessa laughs and rolls her eyes. “Oh give over.” She looks down at the table, bites her lip, then looks back up from under her eyelashes, the way Charity’s realised she does when she’s nervous. “Ok, fine. You can be my date.” 

“No need to be so enthusiastic about it! I’m saving you from being the saddo with no date!”

“Maybe I would have pulled!” Vanessa’s mouth melts into a laugh before she’s even finished saying the sentence.

“Er, not until you’ve left the competition, missy!” Charity was her finger. “You’re mine until then. After that, you can shag all the lesbians from here to Brighton for all I care.”

“I’d settle for just one,” Vanessa mutters, and Charity smirks into her tea.


	5. Part V: A Really Exciting Showstopper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s that time in the fake!dating trope where they see each other in formal wear and drool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys leave the best comments and I love it. Sorry for the slight delay in getting this chapter posted, but as I hope you’ll note there is now a chapter count, the story is properly mapped out and hopefully we’ll get there fairly quickly. I hope you continue to enjoy this nonsense.

**Part V: A Really Exciting Showstopper**

_ Desserts_

“You know, normally dates pick you up at your house,” Charity bitches the moment Vanessa opens the door. She’s clutching her garment bag and trying not to trail it on the floor while also balancing her overnight bag on her shoulder.

“Isn’t that what you’re doing?” Vanessa grins back, and the steps back to get her own bags.

Charity takes the opportunity to survey Vanessa’s intricate hairdo: all curls half swept back and pinned up elegantly.

“I like your hair,” comes out before she can hold it in. 

Beaming, Vanessa stands back up, her own garment bag in her hand. “Thanks! Rhona did it for me.”

Charity raises her eyebrows. “She can do this but walks around looking like that?”

“Charity!” Vanessa rolls her eyes. “God, being nice really is a challenge for you, isn’t it?”

“Well, I’ve not exactly had much cause to be nice, have I?” She looks down at her feet; it’s true what Vanessa says but somehow it still stings to hear it from her. She honestly doesn’t even mean it half the time, it just comes out of her in an unstoppable flow.

“You do pretty well with me,” Vanessa says, much gentler than her previous tone.

Charity knows what she’s doing, trying to pull her out of her grump, but she lets it happen anyway; she looks up and can’t help but smile at Vanessa’s bright, open face.

“Well, being mean to you is like kicking Bambi.”

Vanessa huffs, but Charity can tell she’s amused as she pushes past her to the car.

*** 

“Thanks for driving,” Vanessa says as soon as they’re out of the village.

Charity shrugs; they’d agreed it was the most sensible way. She needs to head back in the morning and Vanessa has to stay for the competition. Apparently the baker from Leeds is going to give her a ride home on Sunday.

They sit in silence for a few miles, and when Charity glances at Vanessa she’s absorbed in a notebook, pursing her lips and shaking her head as she scribbles.

Well, she’s not going to sit here driving for four hours while Vanessa writes her diary or whatever. “What’s that?” 

She gets a big sigh in response. “My plans, for the signature and the showstopper.” She gives Charity an unhappy look. “I’m pretty sure I’m going out this week.”

“Er, I’m not driving half way down flipping England so you can be evicted on Sunday!” Outraged, she glances at Vanessa more than she probably should considering this particular country lane is very bendy.

“Ok, firstly it’s not Big Brother, and secondly I’m just really bad at desserts! I hate working with gelatine and stupid fiddly little things always annoy me and I’ve done badly in the technical the last couple of weeks and I’ve had hardly any time to practice and I’m really stressed…” Vanessa trails off and buries her head in her hands. 

Charity’s never been good at comfort, but one thing does interest her. “Ok, don’t take this the wrong way because you know I love your bakes,” she starts. “But if it stresses you this much, why did you let Tracy persuade you to go on the show? Why does it matter if you go out if it’s just causing you worry?”

There’s a pause, and for a moment Charity thinks she’s gone too far. They’re not proper friends, after all, and Vanessa has no reason to tell her anything.

Even if she really wants to know.

But then, Vanessa starts to speak, so soft that Charity has to strain to hear her.

“I guess I just wanted to prove to myself that I’m good at something.” Charity glances at her in surprise, but Vanessa is looking out of her window. “That I can do something well.”

“But you’re a vet!” Charity can’t help herself but exclaim. “And you’re a good mum. Way better than me, anyway,” she adds, trying for a casual laugh but only managing a slightly bitter one. “You’ve got it all figured out.”

Vanessa lets out a little snort. “Oh yeah, I’m a great vet, me. So great that I almost got us shut down earlier this year.”

Charity turns to look at her. “What?”

“Will you watch the road, please?” Vanessa squeaks, and Charity rolls her eyes and turns her eyes back to the front. 

For a minute there’s silence and Charity thinks that’s all she’s getting, but then Vanessa starts talking, even softer than before.

“I was out at one of our biggest clients’ and checking over the horses, and had my bag open next to me. I was in with one of the horses and the owner’s teenage daughter and her friend stole some ketamine from my bag. I didn’t see her do it but when I saw it was missing I reported it to the police and the girl got scared and came forward.” Vanessa takes a deep breath. “The RCVS came to investigate the practice and threatened to close us down. And we lost the stud farm as a client and they were one of our biggest ones.”

Charity bites her lip. “I didn’t know.”

“No, of course not.” Vanessa laughs a little, a small, brittle sound. “Paddy was desperate to keep it under wraps, try and preserve what was left of our reputation. But it’s been a struggle. You’re not the only business that’s not been doing so well.”

Charity rarely has the time and energy to look beyond her own family’s problems; there are far too many to give her time to feel sorry for other people. But she suddenly realises that she just assumed Vanessa’s life is pretty easy, that her biggest problem is that she can’t find a girlfriend.

“And as for my son,” Vanessa says, her voice a little stronger now, “according to my mother I’m ruining him with my lifestyle choices and he’s clearly going to need therapy.”

Charity snorts a little. “Your mother sounds delightful.”

“We visited her in February and she spent the whole week telling me that a child needs two parents, that there’s something wrong with Johnny because he’s so quiet, that I need to get him specialist help…”

Charity’s eyebrows climb up her face. “I mean, he’s not like Moses who chatters away at literally anyone, but Johnny was telling me all about the Trolls movie yesterday when I was picking Moses up from the childminder.”

Vanessa laughs, and Charity is relieved that it’s a stronger, happier sound. “He likes you. He’s always talking about how funny you are.”

Charity preens a little. She’s not exactly a natural with children and somehow it means something to her that this quiet little boy has chosen her to give his trust to.

“So yeah, it was a pretty shitty start to the year and I was baking a lot to destress, and I guess I kind of wanted to prove that there’s something I’m actually good at.”

Charity is very familiar with feeling inadequate, less than. But she’s not really stopped to consider that it might not just be her feeling that. It’s a strange feeling to share, in this car, with Vanessa Woodfield who she barely exchanged two words with a couple of months ago. 

And the oddest part is that this sharing thing doesn’t feel bad. 

*** 

Her favourite part of the journey is watching Vanessa’s face on arrival at the hotel as it dawns on her that they’ll be sharing a room. And a bed. The panic on her face is kind of adorable. It’s like she’s never done a fake dating scam before in her life.

The rooms are nice enough for a country hotel; not too small, but it’s still close quarters for two people who aren’t actually dating. 

Vanessa begins nervously fussing the minute they get in, hanging up their outfits and unpacking her pyjamas, and then realises the time and rushes to the bathroom to finish her makeup. 

The reception doesn’t start for another forty five minutes but Charity guesses Vanessa isn’t the type who arrives fashionably late at parties, so she fires off a message to Chas to let her know they got there safe and then pulls the zip down on her garment bag.

It’s been a while since she’s got dressed up for anything other than a wedding and although she’d never admit it, it’s quite fun. This dress has been at the back of her wardrobe for years, bought in a sale on a spontaneous shopping trip with Debbie, and she hasn’t even taken the price tag off.

It still fits though, she made sure of that yesterday, and by the time Vanessa emerges from the bathroom with smokey eyes, Charity is safely zipped and tucked inside the slinky black fabric.

“Wow.” Vanessa stops dead and her eyes go wide, and Charity grins a little smugly. She cleans up well, she knows that. It’s part of her appeal, she’s well aware, that she can turn it up or down. Rich men used to like to think of it as ‘saving her’, when really all they were doing was giving the surface a bit of a polish.

“This is the part where you tell me how hot I’m looking,” she smirks, placing her hands on her hips. She knows it’s mean, because Vanessa still gets so flustered whenever there’s a hint of flirtation, but there’s a part of her that, despite Vanessa’s slack-jawed expression, wants to hear her say something nice about her out loud. Wants to know what a Vanessa compliment might feel like.

“I’ve never know you to look anything but,” Vanessa blurts out, then goes bright red.

Grinning delightedly, Charity steps closer. “Well, you’re not looking too shabby yourself,” she says honestly, trailing her eyes down Vanessa’s cobalt blue dress.

Vanessa shakes her head, looking embarrassed. “I’m nowhere near the same league as you.” She gives Charity another look, then seems to snap out of it. “Well, are you coming? Time to go!”

Charity doesn’t even bother to argue that the event doesn’t start for another ten minutes. She’s getting a feel for which battles with Vanessa she had a chance of winning and this is not one of them. 

*** 

Needless to say, the Dingles aren’t exactly a ‘National Trust House on a Sunday’ kind of family, but Charity is still fairly impressed by Welford Park and the way the event’s been put together.

Sure, it’s all a little twee. There’s bunting and cupcakes everywhere and clearly some of the contestants did not get the memo about the dress code – one guy just walked past in a T-shirt under his blazer that just said ‘cake’ – but on the whole it’s a jolly, bright affair and they’re handed champagne the minute they arrived, so Charity’s happy enough.

Last night when she showed Chas the dress, Chas had jokingly asked her if she was looking to pull. But even if that was her goal, there’s absolutely zero chance of that because Vanessa’s obviously done a very thorough job with the cover story. Literally _everyone_ they meet seem to know who she is.

She’s gotten very used, over the years, to people saying ‘oh, I’ve heard all about you’, usually as a prelude to listing her many crimes in their eyes. So it catches her a little off guard when person after person gushes over her.

“You must be Charity!” a woman who looked to be in her sixties with pink hair and huge costume jewellery screeches the minute they walk in, before hugging her. “Your Vanessa has told us all about you!”

“Has she now?” Charity says, turning to Vanessa, but all she gets in response is a slightly sheepish shrug.

And it doesn’t stop there.

Charity obviously knows Vanessa is nice; she’s got eyes and ears after all, but she’s so popular here it’s ridiculous. Everyone wants to talk to them, to meet her. And Vanessa is a very attentive date: whenever the conversation inevitably turns to baking, she makes sure to keep Charity included, and she doesn’t once abandon her to talk to her friends.

Charity’s been arm candy for a lot of people before, she’s used to it, but it’s never been like this. Where everyone obviously wants to talk to her because of who her date is, but where they also already know good things about her. Where she’s been talked up.

“Vanessa was telling us about how you two got together and I just _died_,” Timothy, one of the contestants that Charity knows is already out of the competition thanks to Vanessa’s very thorough car briefing, tells her. “Arthur loved it too.”

“Oh?” She turns to Vanessa but she’s busy talking to Arthur, Timothy’s husband. “Well, I mean, that’s me! Mrs Romantic!”

She hopes for the best, because despite the long car journey for some reason they never got round to coming up with a background story. Or rather, Vanessa seems to have forgotten to brief her on the one she’s already told everyone.

Luckily she seems to have bluffed her way through; Timothy laughs loudly and she nods in relief.

“The thing with the mask…it gave me shivers,” he continue, and Charity tries very hard to keep her face straight. _Masks?_ What was Vanessa smoking when she came up with this story?

“It’s such a shame you can’t stay tomorrow,” he tells her. “We’re just going to hang around in the bar and then snag some of the baking when the judging is done.”

“I have to get back to my pub,” Charity says in the most apologetic tone she can manage, like she would like nothing better than to spend her Saturday sitting in the bar with Timothy and Arthur waiting for Vanessa’s cake to bake. “And the kids.”

“Oh yes, your hoard of children!” Timothy beams are her. “You two have such a beautiful family together!”

Charity tries to catch Vanessa’s eye so she can be saved from this, but Vanessa is laughing loudly at something Noel Fielding has said, and she doesn’t see Charity’s cry for help.

She must say, Vanessa really cleans up well. She’s easily the best looking woman in the room. Which is good. Everyone knows the pretty ones get more air time.

“But seriously, Vanessa is such a lovely person,” Timothy continues, and he honest to god gets choked up.

These people. Charity doesn’t know half the time whether she finds them cute or annoying.

“And she told me a little bit about how she’s struggled with her sexuality and how you really helped her come to terms with that, and how supportive you are, and she’s just so kind and she deserves someone like you. Someone who looks after her, who’s good for her.”

Charity’s polite smile freezes. 

Because he’s right. Vanessa is kind. She’s nice and funny and beautiful and everyone here loves her.

It hits Charity like a brick to the face that Vanessa could probably have found a girlfriend here by now, if Charity wasn’t making her do the fake dating thing. Vanessa’s a catch, and Charity’s keeping her off the market for selfish reasons.

And yes, Vanessa has been struggling with the dating women thing, but instead of helping, Charity’s basically made her off limits.

She’s done her typical, selfish thing, and not considered anyone else’s feelings.

“Excuse me,” she manages abruptly, before stepping away from Timothy and scanning the room frantically for an exit.

She needs some space to think.

The french doors out to the lawn are the closest, and she hurries to them as quickly as her towering heels allow, trying to take calming breaths.

The grounds look amazing. The summer sunset is casting a beautiful pink light on everything and there’s little lanterns hung all about them. 

And towering further down the lawn, some distance from the house, is the looming white construction that she’s heard so much about tonight.

The tent.

Almost without thought she heads towards it. It’s much bigger than it looks on TV, probably to accommodate all the TV cameras and equipment. She rounds it slowly, but as she makes it to the front, she realises she’s not alone anymore.

“There you are,” Vanessa says as she rounds the corner, her smile a little loose with the champagne she’s had. “I turned around and you were gone.”

Charity shrugs. She doesn’t feel like being around Vanessa right now; she’s annoyed at her for making her feel this way, no matter how unfair or unreasonable that might be. “Wanted some fresh air.”

Vanessa steps closer, squinting at Charity’s face. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing!”

“Charity,” she sighs, “I know you well enough by now to know when something’s wrong.”

The fact that that’s probably true almost hurts, because there’s only a handful of people in Charity’s life who can do that, and Vanessa just seems to have waltzed in with that ability. 

And the thing is, Vanessa probably doesn’t even like her. Charity did kind of force her hand into this whole fake dating thing. She probably can’t wait for them to break up.

“Alright,” Charity snaps. “Maybe it’s the fact that everyone seems to know our amazing history together which you’ve apparently forgotten to tell me about.” Her tone is too sharp but she can’t help it. She needs to get some distance between them. She needs Vanessa to stop looking at her with that soft expression.

Vanessa’s eyes widen. “I’m sorry,” she says quickly. “I forgot that…one night they were all talking about how they met their partners and I just-“

“You just invented some sort of fantasy? You can’t get a girlfriend in real life so you mould me to be your fake one?”

Hurt flashes across Vanessa’s face like Charity’s hit her, and Charity’s stomach clenches. The urge to take it back immediately wells up in her but before either of them can say anything else, giggling from inside the tent reaches them and then two dishevelled looking individuals emerge from the tent.

“Woopsies!” the woman giggles, straightening her dress. “I see you guys had the same thought about a bunk up in the tent!”

Vanessa holds Charity’s gaze for another moment, then breaks the connection and paints on the smile that Charity has come to recognise as the fake one. “You’ve caught us, Eilidh! Or rather, we seem to have caught you!”

The woman giggles again and her very young looking partner wraps his arm around her waist. 

“Let’s go get some food,” he grins. “I’m starving now and they probably want some alone time.”

The woman winks at them and they hurry through the darkening gardens back towards the house.

“I hope they disinfect in there before you guys have to bake tomorrow,” Charity mutters, looking down at her shoes.

The flash of anger has gone as quickly as it came, just like it always does, leaving her saturated in regret and shame.

“Charity,” Vanessa says firmly, squaring her shoulders and narrowing her eyes. “What is wrong?” She holds up her finger before Charity can respond. “And for the love of god stop picking a fight with me to push me away. If you don’t want to tell me that’s fine, but if someone’s upset you or-“

“It’s not that.” Charity feels a smile coming on, and really, what the hell is up with her emotions? Because the mere thought of Vanessa stomping up to the house and yelling at Paul Hollywood about saying something to upset her is both comical and frighteningly realistic.

“I just...” She trails off, unsure how to express the sick, dark feeling that had welled up in her in the house. “Do you want to break up?”

Vanessa freezes. “What? Why?”

“So, you know, I’m not cramping your style.”

“This was your idea!” Vanessa reminds her, stepping closer to her. 

“I know!” Charity throws up her hands. “I know, ok?” She doesn’t know if she can put it into words, that she knows what it’s like to be forced into a relationship against your will. When you feel like you have no choices, like you can’t get out. How she worries that that’s what she’s doing with Vanessa.

She turns her body half away so she doesn’t have to look at Vanessa’s face. She’s got a habit of just blurting stuff out of she’s looking at Vanessa and that needs to stop.

“Timothy was talking about you,” she manages. “He said you were talking to him about struggling, with being gay and stuff.” She glances at Vanessa who’s going a bit pink. “And that you told him that I helped.”

Vanessa looks embarrassed but nods. “I did say that.”

“Why?” Charity can’t help herself; she makes eye contact. “It’s not true!”

Vanessa shakes her head slowly. “Yes it is!” She smiles a little sheepishly. “That first date I went on, when everyone kept coming over and asking questions and discussing us loudly at the bar, you just shut them all down.”

“That wasn’t-“ Charity starts but Vanessa cuts her off.

“It meant a lot to me. And you’ve been really supportive since, as well. You might not think it, but it helps, being able to talk about it. To someone who actually _gets_ it.” She smiles softly. “And I know it’s not real, but being able to talk about having a girlfriend…to meet new people and have them know this straight away about me and it not be a big deal…Charity, it’s been _so important_ to me. I don’t think I could have even said the words ‘I have a girlfriend’ out loud a couple of months ago.”

A heavy, clinging weight loosens in her chest. “So I’m not forcing you?”

Horror crosses Vanessa’s face. “No!” She catches Charity’s eye. “And anyway, what gives you the impression you could make me do something I don’t want to do?”

“Good point.” She feels her gloomy mood dissipate, like Vanessa’s cast a happy spell on her. “You’re the bossy one, not me.”

Vanessa rolls her eyes, in that way Charity now recognised as fond. “Well, then, since I’m in charge, I’m saying let’s go back inside, get another drink and I’ll introduce you to Sandi.”

“It’ll be like the convention of the vertically challenged,” Charity jokes, and dodges Vanessa’s elbow.

*** 

“I had fun tonight.” Vanessa sits in her cake pyjamas (_of course_), propped up against the headboard.

Charity nods. “Me too.” Surprisingly so, considering she literally just talked to people. No shenanigans. No schemes. She didn’t even get anyone’s number. But she still had a properly good time.

“Paul didn’t catch you alone, did he?” Vanessa asks. “He’s got a bit of a reputation.”

“I think I might be a little old for him.” She’d seen him skulking around one of the younger contestants, even though her husband was right there.

“Everyone loved you, by the way,” Vanessa grins as Charity slips into bed next to her. 

“I suppose they were tolerable as well,” she jokes back, getting comfortable and trying not to remember how long it’s been since she actually went to sleep next to someone else.

Vanessa yawns, snuggling into the duvet. Her nose scrunches up a little as a bit of her fringe falls over her face and Charity has to clench her fists at the sudden, almost irresistible urge to push it behind her ear.

Her stomach clenches. She must have had too much champagne.

“They’ll all be gutted when we break up,” Vanessa mutters, already half asleep.

Charity’s smile drops. It’s easy to forget, sometimes, that this friendship has an expiry date. She’s getting too used to Vanessa. Coming to rely on the comfort of this almost-friendship. In a few weeks this will all be over, and Vanessa won’t want to hang out anymore.

It’s clear that she needs to put some distance between them, before Vanessa’s inevitable disappearance really hurts.


	6. Part VI: Melts In The Mouth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fake!dating intensifies, and the first episode airs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are the absolute best with your comments. Thank you all so much :)

**Part VI: Melts In The Mouth**

_Pastry_

The thing is, staying away from Vanessa is much harder in practice than in theory.

For one, when Vanessa calls her on Saturday night, several hours after Charity got home, to tell her about how she got on in the tent that day, it’s Noah picks up the phone before she can let it go to voicemail, and it would clearly look funny if she declined to talk to Vanessa when he handed her the phone.

Plus it’s kind of heartwarming, how relieved Vanessa sounds.

“Thank god my meringue didn’t crack,” she sighs. “I was so hungover this morning I think I forgot to be nervous.”

The fact that she’s a lightweight is endearing as well, and god damn it, why is Vanessa just about the only person that doesn’t have traits that annoy her?

“You’d better brace yourself,” she warns Vanessa. “The _ Hotten Courier_ released the names of the contestants today and they are beside themselves that there’s a local competing.”

“Oh god,” Vanessa groans. 

“Remember to mention the Woolpack when the paparazzi mob you,” she jokes, before they end the call so Vanessa can get some sleep.

Anyway, it wouldn’t be fair to ignore her when she’s in the middle of a competition. Vanessa’s sensitive and would probably wonder if something was wrong with Charity, then stay up fretting about it.

It’ll be easier to pull away gradually. Which she definitely needs to do. They’re spending so much time together that Charity has realised she’s actually looking forward to seeing Vanessa. And by extension, Johnny and Tracy. She is excited to get messages from her; her mood lifts when she comes into the pub.

That’s not good. Charity Dingle relies on no one. She’s learned the hard way that no one ever sticks around, and she’s not going to get attached only to get cast aside again when she becomes inconvenient or too much.

She’ll just cool things down a bit. Stop seeing Vanessa so much. The fact that that thought dampens her mood merely proves her point. It’s for the best.

*** 

“The screen you ordered arrived earlier,” Chas tells her the next day. “But I’m telling you now, I hope you know how to set it up because this is all your baby.”

“What screen?” she asks blankly.

Chas widens her eyes dramatically, the way she does when Charity is being particular dim in her eyes. “The huge projection screen you ordered so we can show that stupid baking show to the punters on Tuesday?”

Crap. She _had_ come up with that idea a couple of weeks ago, and despite Vanessa’s objections had placed the order. She regrets that now.

“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” she winces. If they do a live screening Tracy is bound to drag Vanessa to the pub to watch it. And they’re supposed to be having some separate time.

Chas’s face darkens. “No, no, no!” She rises to her feet and looms over her. “You ordered this thing. You came up with this idea. This whole fake dating thing, which I let you skive a Friday night shift for, is supposedly bringing in punters. So I don’t care if Vanessa was going to bake you a bloody replica of the whole village out of red velvet at her place, you are setting this thing up on Tuesday and manning the bar or so help me, Charity, I will-“

“Ok, ok!” Charity replies quickly, her hands raised min surrender. “Sit down before you break your waters.” She tries not to wince at the fact that Chas automatically assumed she’d be at Vanessa’s to watch the show. That the two of them together has become so common place that that’s the assumption.

This staying away from each other thing needs to start now.

*** 

“So, what time does the live screening start tomorrow?” Tracy asks, leaning across the bar. 

Charity had initially tried not to notice that Vanessa and Tracy had come in, but Vanessa had beamed and waved at her and she’d had flour on her nose and it was just too hilarious not to mock her for, and before she knew it they were laughing over the bar and she was back in that warm, comfortable Vanessa place again. The one where she’s increasingly finding herself and doesn’t seem to be able to remember why she should leave it when they’re together.

“Well, it’s live, Tracy,” she says slowly, “so it’s the same time as it would be on normal TV.”

“Are you sure we have to do this?” Vanessa whines. “It’s so embarrassing!”

“Yes.” And before she can shut her mouth up, it keeps moving. “And I’m expecting you sat right here, missus. You’re the main attraction and I want this pub full.”

“I reckon a real girlfriend would actually be less bossy,” Tracy advises Vanessa, but she’s smirking. “But it’ll be fun, Vee! I can’t wait to see you on TV.”

“I am going to die of embarrassment,” Vanessa groans into her pint. 

But they all know full well she’ll be there, and Charity smugly refills her pint, pushing down the voice inside her that says she really needs to take a step back from this.

*** 

“Isn’t that a bit much?” Noah asks when he comes home the next day and finds her dragging the chalk board out to the pavement.

_Tonight at 8pm: Bakeoff Live at the Woolpack with contestant and local celebrity VANESSA WOODFIELD_

“I think it’s just what we need,” she disagrees. Then she gives him a closer look. “What’s that around your mouth?”

His eyes shift to the side and he wipes at his mouth, and her eyes widen.

“I knew it!” The evidence is all over his jumper as well. “So much for footie practice! You’ve been round at Vanessa’s, haven’t you!”

He shifts his weight guiltily. “Only on the way home! And she needed my help to pick a pie anyway!”

“Uh huh!” She’s both amused and dismayed. Because of course she can try and distance herself from Vanessa a bit, in preparation for when their friendship to end. But her son is invested in this too. Sons, plural, if she’s honest. 

“Vanessa’s well nervous about tonight,” he tells her, brushing the crumbs off himself. “She’s worried she’s going to look like an idiot on TV.”

“All normal people look like idiots ok TV,” Charity replies absentmindedly. 

“That’s what I said!” Noah grins at her and a warm feeling spreads through her in response. It’s been so long since they’ve laughed easily together, and each time it happens it makes her feel on top of the world. 

“I bet she’ll be good though, don’t you think?” he says, and he’s watching her in that way of his, where she can’t quite tell what he’s thinking.

“We know she goes through already, babe!” she reminds him. “It’s hardly a cliffhanger.”

“Yeah,” he sighs impatiently. “But, you know, everyone will like her. Because she’s nice and stuff, right?”

“Of course they will.” How did she manage to produce a kid who worries about stuff like this, she wonders. Despite everything he’s seen and been through, he’s still sweet at heart. “What’s not to like?”

He nods, grinning at her, and she can’t help but grin back.

*** 

“Did you guys know about this?” Moira asks her and Chas as they watch Paddy and Cain try to set up the screen. “About Vanessa being on Bakeoff?”

“We had an inkling,” Chas replies. “And this one was right in there turning it into a business opportunity.”

Charity spreads her arms. “And I was right, wasn’t I?” 

The pub is the fullest it’s been midweek in _months_. Almost every table is full and they’re not just having drinks: people are having dinner and Marlon, in a rare stroke of genius, has made a couple of cakes which are proving very popular.

Only one table is still free, and Charity is trying very hard not to keep glancing at it and then the door. 

Maybe putting a ‘reserved’ sign on it was excessive. Will look well daft if she doesn’t show now. 

And anyway, it’s no skin off her nose if Vanessa doesn’t come. The pub is full anyhow. 

Although she did say she would, so maybe something’s wrong? Maybe Charity should quickly pop over and check on her?

“Busy in here tonight!” a loud voice exclaims and Charity feels a jolt go through her as she turns towards Tracy. 

Vanessa is trailing behind her looking deeply uncomfortable, and Rhona is prodding her on with words of encouragement.

“Aww, cute, Charity’s saved us a table!” Tracy squeals.

_Cute?_

“That was Chas,” she lies quickly, but Vanessa catches her eye and smirks a little and Charity knows she knows. 

“Pint on the house for our celebrity guest,” she says quickly, topping off the glass and setting it on the bar. “And, let’s see, a glass of rosé for the lady who nominated her.”

Tracy claps her hands together. “Thanks Charity! I’m so excited.”

“You don’t say.” Tracy’s practically bouncing off the walls. 

“Do I also get a free drink?” Rhona enquires, standing next to Vanessa like a spare part.

“What am I, Oxfam?”

“It’s about to start!” Paddy shouts from the corner, and the someone manages to activate the volume as Vanessa buries her head in her hands. 

“Come sit down,” Rhona says gently. “It won’t be as awkward as you think.” She pats Vanessa’s back and leads her to the table, and Charity is left with a strange sinking feeling at the way Vanessa lets herself be led away.

Which is daft. Because Rhona and Vanessa have been friends _forever_. She has absolutely no reason to feel anything remotely resembling jealousy. 

And she knows it’s stupid to be put out by Vanessa watching the show at the table reserved for her instead of at the bar with Charity. At the table _Charity_ reserved for her.

But her emotions are doing weird, unpredictable things these days and so she’s peeved anyway.

A cheer goes up in the pub as the first shot of the twelve bakers appears on the screen. Vanessa is in the middle of the pack, wearing that shirt, a little more unbuttoned than usual, Charity notes, and her hair in a ponytail that swishes as she walks.

They all go to stand behind their stations and put their aprons on, and Charity turns to look at Vanessa. 

And Vanessa’s glancing at her, already blushing. 

“Cute apron,” Charity mouths are her, and Vanessa mouths “Shut up!” in response, making her grin.

The chatter in the pub is so noisy that Charity can’t really hear the introductions for the other bakers. But when Vanessa’s face appears on the screen, she marches to the closing bell and rings it.

“Everyone shut it!” she tells them, glaring especially at Rishi, who is getting too into this already. “And listen to Vanessa.”

_Vanessa Woodfield is a vet and mum of one from Emmerdale in Yorkshire, who’s been baking passionately since university._

During Sandi’s voiceover, they see Vanessa leaving the vets in her green surgery coat and carrying her bag. It’s clearly staged but kind of adorable. The next shot is Vanessa pushing Johnny on the swings, and it must have been before he started crying because his eyes aren’t red and he’s actually almost smiling despite the strangers off-screen.

_When Vanessa isn’t working or baking, she enjoys a pint at her girlfriend Charity’s pub._

They show the two of them sitting at the bench outside with two pints in front of them, and Charity nods in satisfaction as the Woolpack sign is framed in shot perfectly above their heads.

She turns to look at Vanessa, then realises that the entire pub has gone silent and is staring at her and Vanessa, backwards and forwards like a tennis match.

“What?!” Paddy exclaims loudly at the end of the bar. All around them the punters start muttering, and Charity sees Vanessa going red again.

“You and _Charity_,” Paddy continues, his jaw practically trailing on the floor as he gawps at Vanessa.

Charity squares her shoulders. She knows what everyone is thinking. Is whispering. They’re wondering what Vanessa sees in her. In what way Charity thinks she’s good enough for her. 

“Oh, settle down, Paddy,” Rhona rolls her eyes. “It’s not-“

Vanessa clamps her hand over Rhona’s mouth. “It’s none of your business,” Vanessa says sharply. 

Charity hides a smirk and turns to refill a gawping Pete’s pint. Part of her was sure that once the everyone saw this, Vanessa would be clarifying that they’re not actually together all over the village. But it looks like she’s content to let them all believe this for now.

“You and little miss sunshine?” a mocking voice asks from her right and she tilts her head back to the ceiling. For some reason he still manages to rile her up like no one else. It’s been decades and they’re still constantly bickering, constantly trying to outdo each other.

“What’s it to you?” she sneers at Cain, and he shrugs, laughing. It’s his mean laugh, though, the one that makes her hackles rise.

“Just don’t really see it,” he replies. “Bit boring for you, ain’t she? No fortune, no excitement…”

Charity glances across at Vanessa, who thankfully doesn’t seem to be able to hear what Cain’s saying over the noise in the pub. She’s still a bit pink, and her hair is a little messy from where she’s been running her hands through it.

It’s makes her smile, immediately, looking at Vanessa. That’s the thing, she knows, that draws her in. Vanessa makes her feel better about herself, not worse. Not like most of her family does most of the time. 

“Actually, she’s plenty exciting,” she tells Cain firmly. “Tiny blonde rocket woman.” That was probably too much, but it slips out before she can hold it in.

Cain pulls a face and moves away, but Moira smirks at her in the space he leaves behind. “My, you are smitten.”

“Oh, shut it,” she grumps half heartedly, turning back to the screen. Vanessa is just placing a plate of fairly even looking angel cake slices behind a picture of herself. 

She looks good on TV. The blue of her eyes pops, and her hair shines, and really, she just comes across well.

Which is good. For the pub, and all.

*** 

In the final ad break, Charity’s just taking the empty bottles outside, when someone calls her name behind her.

She finds herself smiling, almost automatically in response to Vanessa’s voice. 

“There you are,” Vanessa smiles, and Charity feels something in her stir as she realises Vanessa is happy to see her too. “Hiding away are we?”

“Does that sound like me?” Charity says lightly.

Vanessa gives her a look, one that says she knows Charity is being blasé, but after a moment she moves on. “I forgot that everyone in there would be surprised,” she says instead. “I feel like we’ve been doing this so long I’ve kind of gotten used to it.”

Charity knows the feeling. It’s not like she can’t remember a life before Vanessa Woodfield was her fake girlfriend; it’s only been a few weeks after all, but it’s become a new normal very quickly. Seeing her, and Johnny, and even Tracy. Being force fed cake and teasing each other over the bar.

Her smile feels a little strained when she realises there’s only a few weeks of this left.

“What’s the matter?” Vanessa says straight away. “Has someone said something? Because, you know, if you don’t want to do this anymore…”

“No, it’s not that.” Speaking about how she feels has never exactly been her forte but around Vanessa she can’t seem to help it. She just looks at Charity and it just pours out.

“Look, maybe I’ve been imagining it but I feel like maybe you’ve been avoiding me a bit,” Vanessa says, and Charity can tell from her tone she’s a bit nervous, because her voice is a little higher, a little thinner than normal. “And if I’ve been bothering you too much and you need space or if the thing last week was too intense or whatever-“

“No.” She shakes her head quickly. For some reason, her heart is pounding. “No, it’s just…” She turns to the empty street. “I hear Noah was a yours earlier.”

“Yeah.” Vanessa comes to stand beside her. “Is that not ok? I can stop having him round without you?” There’s hurt in her voice, and it makes Charity clench her fingers together. 

“I just worry,” she says, and she can’t seem to make her voice any firmer than a whisper, “that he’s not going to understand. When it’s over.” 

“What do you mean?”

Charity sighs. She can’t tell if Vanessa is being intentionally obtuse. “When the filming ends. What’s going to happen then?”

“I finally get to make cake for fun?” Vanessa says lightly. “I never have to make puff pastry from scratch ever again?” She nudges Charity with her shoulder. “I can make a plain old Victoria sponge for you and not have to infuse it with green tea for anyone to think it’s interesting?”

“So you still want to…” Charity digs her nails into her palms hard. She _hates_ feeling this weak, this uncertain. But she wants to know so badly. “When this is over, we’ll still be…you’ll still bake for us?” she finishes lamely.

Vanessa turns her whole body this time, and Charity turns to face her like a magnet.

“Course.” She’s smiling again, and really, Vanessa smiles the most of anyone she’s ever met. “I bake for all my friends.”

Charity lets out a long breath, feeling something in her loosen.

“What, you thought we’d ‘break up’ and I’d never talk to you again?”

“No,” Charity lies, looking down at her feet.

“After the way you’ve been there for me the last couple of weeks?”

“I’ve eaten your cake, I’ve hardly done anything useful.”

Vanessa shakes her head. “You’re honest. You’re funny. You’re actually really nice when you want to be.”

“You take that back,” Charity says, appalled, and Vanessa laughs.

“You make me feel better when I’m stressing,” Vanessa says gently. “And I like to think you enjoy hanging out as well.”

“I suppose,” Charity says nonchalantly, but she can’t hide the smile tugging at her lips.

“Well, then.” Vanessa nods as if something has been settled. “Now that that’s sorted, let’s go in and watch me not win star baker for the first time in a long run.”

She grabs Charity’s hand and pulls her behind her, and Charity tries not to gasp at the softness of their hands touching. It’s been so long since she’s held hands with anyone that isn’t three, and it feels so comfortable she can’t even bring herself to make a sarcastic comment.

“What’re you grinning at?” Chas asks as they come back into the bar, and Vanessa plops herself on one of the bar stools instead of at the table with Tracy and Rhona.

“Just that my amazing plan is clearly going to save us,” she quips, and pulls Vanessa another pint. Just because.


	7. Part VII: Spun Sugar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pretending to fake date has consequences for Charity. Meanwhile Vanessa struggles to find time to bake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I say this every time but you guys are the most lovely and encouraging bunch, thank you all so much for your comments 😊

**Part VII: Spun Sugar **

_Caramel_

The morning after the first episode airs, Charity feels light. Full of optimism. Distinctly unlike herself, on the whole.

Their takings last night were good, better than the whole of the last weekend. Chas even offered to open today, let Charity have a lie in, so that means it must have been _really_ good. 

And she’s still high from her chat with Vanessa. Because if someone like Vanessa wants to be friends with her, she can’t be all that terrible, can she?

“Mum!” she hears behind her. 

“Oh hey Debs!” Charity smiles; she hasn’t seen her daughter in almost a week. With Sarah finally home from the hospital, they’ve been spending a lot of time just the three of them in the house, to limit the chance of infection. “How’s Sarah?”

“She’s fine.” Debbie is giving her an expectant look, and Charity’s stomach drops. She’s forgotten something, she knows she has. Debbie only gives her that look when Charity’s let her down, somehow.

“What’s going on?” she says trying for casual, but her squeak gives her away.

Debbie raises her eyebrows. “Well, I was watching TV with Sarah last night and she puts on this baking show she loves, right, and imagine my surprise when one of the contestants is _Vanessa Woodfield_ from down the road-“ 

_Oh no._

“—and then I find out from _Sandi Toksvig_ that she’s apparently in a relationship with my mother!”

It is suddenly very clear to Charity what exactly she has forgotten. “Debbie,” she starts, her tone grovelling. “I just-“

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She looks almost hurt, and the guilt Charity feels triples. “Were you worried how I would react?”

“Look, Debbie, the thing is…” Charity starts but Debbie cuts across her.

“Because you know my past, you know I wouldn’t judge you. And the kids are so open with stuff like that, I hope you didn’t keep it a secret because if them?”

“No, of course not!” Charity shakes her head quickly. She needs to get on top of this.

“I’m really happy for you, Mum.” Debbie says, a small smile appearing on her face. “Vanessa is really nice. She was so good with Jack when his hamster died last year. She’s really different to everyone you’ve dated in the past.”

“She is,” she replies. Charity feels almost choked up at the look in Debbie’s eyes. She can’t remember the last time they had a chat like this. That she saw that approving look on Debbie’s face. It must be years since it’s been like this.

The thought of having to admit out loud that what her daughter thinks is an amazing relationship is a fraud makes her feel sick.

“I’m really proud of you,” Debbie says, and her face cracks that almost-smile of hers. “You’ve really grown up, if you’ve picked someone like Vanessa.”

And somehow, instead of ‘fessing up, instead of explaining what she’s doing, Charity finds herself nodding. “Thanks, babe.” She feels inexplicably close to tears.

“You two should come round soon,” Debbie tells her. “Sarah would love to talk to Vanessa about baking.”

“Yeah.” Charity’s stomach drops. Because she, as per usual, has not thought this through at all. 

How is she going to explain to Vanessa that her daughter thinks their relationship is real? It’s one thing lying to their neighbours, because it’s none of their business anyway. But lying to their loved ones…Charity’s pretty sure Vanessa is going to have a problem with that. 

*** 

She leaves Debbie outside Jacob’s Fold and heads back towards the pub. She toys with the idea of calling in at the vets, because she suddenly has the overwhelming urge to confess what she’s done to Vanessa, but her car isn’t outside and so Charity figures she must be on a call out.

Feeling deflated, Charity wanders slowly up Main Street towards the pub, when she hears a voice calling her name.

“Ms Dingle!” someone calls, and she sees one of the nurses teachers hurrying towards her. “Oh, Ms Dingle, thank goodness you’re here.”

“What’s happened?” She immediately has visions of Moses covered in blood, or with his skull cracked open. That little monkey seems to love climbing on stuff lately and one of these days he’s going to fall off, she just knows it. “Is Moses ok?”

The woman smiles but it’s a little strained. “Yes, he’s fine. But I’m afraid Johnny is quite upset and I can’t seem to reach Ms Woodfield or Mrs Metcalfe.”

“Oh.” Poor little soul. He’s much more sensitive than any of her ones were at that age. Last week she saw him cry because he accidentally stepped on a ladybug. 

He definitely takes after Vanessa.

“I can try to call Vanessa?” Charity suggests, when the teacher looks at her expectantly.

“We don’t think she’s got phone signal,” the teacher replies. “It’s going straight to voicemail.” She purses her lips in a slightly judgemental way, and Charity squares her shoulders.

“Well, Vanessa has to work, you know.” She narrows her eyes. “Especially since you lot have raised your fees again. Would be cheaper to hire bloomin’ Nanny McPhee.”

“Well, if you had let us know about your relationship we could have applied the sibling discount,” the woman replies pointedly.

Charity is so taken aback she doesn’t know how to respond.

“Are you coming, Ms Dingle?” she’s asked as the teacher starts heading back towards the building. 

“Where?” she asks.

The woman looks at her like she’s stupid. “To see Johnny.”

And, of course, they’re expecting her to go and help her girlfriend’s son. She really, really did not think this tv show thing through at all. Now even the nursery teachers think they’re getting it on.

Still, the idea of poor Johnny crying and no one coming is kind of heartbreaking, so she follows the woman inside.

Charity hears the sobs the minute she walks in. He’s huddled in a corner, two nursery assistants crouched beside him, but he’s pulled away from them and curled into a ball. 

Beside him, Moses appears to be collecting every toy in the place and arranging them in some sort of semi-menacing toy army facing off against Johnny. “Look,” Moses declares to Johnny. “I got you all the toys.” Then he spies her. “Mummy!”

She tries not to wince as he barrels full tilt into her leg and hugs him. “Hey, Moz, what’s up?”

Moses looks up at her with big, serious eyes. “Johnny is sad.” 

She nods like this is entirely new information.

“I got him all the toys but he’s still crying,” he informs her. 

Charity peels Moses off her leg and nudges him towards his pile of toys. “Why don’t you pick one you think Johnny might particularly like, while I go talk to him, ok?”

Moses nods, and Charity crouches down next to Johnny. “Hey, Johnnybobs,” she tries in that soft, light tone Vanessa always uses with the kids. “Fancy meeting you here.”

There’s a brief hiccup in the sobbing.  
Charity takes that as encouragement.

“I was wondering if you could help me,” she tells him as she sits herself down beside him, completely ignoring the assistants sitting next to them. “I’ve been wandering around hoping someone might give me a hug. Do you know anyone who might be able to help me?”

There’s a pause, interspersed with sniffles. Then, an eye appears between fingers covering his face. A second later, he’s crawled into her lap, his wet cheeks turning into her neck and his little fingers clutching at her shirt.

The poor little guy’s clearly exhausted himself. He sags against her, his whole body trembling with upset.

Charity strokes his back gently. “There,” she says softly. “There you go. It’s ok, Johnny.”

“I want Mummy,” he sniffles. “I want my Mummy.”

“I know, sweetheart.” She rocks him a little, encouraged that his crying is slowing down a bit. “But Mummy’s off helping a…” She hesitates. “…a lovely cow called Mrs Buttercup.”

Johnny lifts his head a little. “What’s wrong with her?” he hiccups.

Encouraged, Charity bounces him a little. “Mrs Buttercup’s got a horrible cold. She sneezed so hard earlier the farmer fell over backwards!”

She feels him giggle a little and it’s like someone has attached a pump to her heart and expanded it.

She’s never really been all that into kids, despite having had a whole army of them. They just kind of happened to her. This sort of bonding moment is rare for her.

“Can I go home?” Johnny asks softly. 

Charity sighs. “I don’t think so, babes. Your Mummy’s still got to help Mrs Buttercup.” She watches his lip tremble.

“You can take him,” the teacher who came out to find her says, looking thoroughly relieved that the howling has stopped. 

“Err…” Charity hesitates. She doesn’t want to leave him here, upset, but she’s also not sure Vanessa would be ok with her taking him home with her. “Should you really be letting me take him?” She’s pretty sure there’s laws about that sort of thing.

“We support all family models here at Rainbow Nursery,” the teacher says encouragingly, pointing to a poster which displays all sorts of different families. Mums and Dads. Dads and Dads. Mums and Mums. 

She supposes that’s all very good and progressive, but the fact remains that she’s not _actually_ with Vanessa, so taking Johnny is basically kidnapping.

“Please,” he sniffles. 

She looks down at his eyes and sighs. Goddammit.

*** 

Charity spends the next hour and a half anxiously checking her phone and imagining the conversation she’s going to have when Vanessa finally gets phone reception.

She tries not to show her worry on her face when she gives the boys sandwiches or sets up the Paw Patrol DVD for them. 

But she chews her nails nervously at the kitchen table and wishes it was socially acceptable to drink vodka while babysitting.

It’s almost four when there’s a knock on the door and Charity hurried through to see a frazzled looking Vanessa on the step. 

“I didn’t kidnap him!” she blurts out in lieu of ‘hello’.

Vanessa’s lips quirk. “So you said in the four voicemail messages you left me.”

“You should have words with the nursery, they can’t just let anyone wander out with the children!” Her nerves are settling a bit because Vanessa hasn’t opened by yelling, but she’s spent hours steeling herself for a telling off and it’s hard for her to stop the defensive babble spewing out of her.

Vanessa moves into the hall past her, shrugging off her denim jacket. “You’re on his list,” she says, peering into the living room where the boys are building an elaborate train line which incorporates several of Chas’s shoes.

Charity stops short. “What?”

“Hi, sweetheart,” Vanessa calls out, and Johnny rushes towards them. 

“Mummy!” He grins up at her. “I had crisps _and_ juice.”

Charity winces. “He was dead upset so I let him pick what he wanted.”

Vanessa looks at her, and the guilt in her eyes hits Charity in the chest like someone’s stood on it.

“Go play with Moses for a minute, Johnny.” She turns back to Charity. “I feel terrible for not being there. I was out at the Wiseacre farm and had no reception.”

“He’s fine.” Charity tries to smile encouragingly. “Once I got him here Moses perked him right up.”

“And you.” Vanessa smiles softly, though her eyes are still sad. “He’s been so clingy since I started filming. He hates that I go away, and he’s started fussing even when I’m at work.” She places a hand on Charity’s arm and it sends something warm through the fabric of her shirt all the way to the very core of her stomach. “Thank you, for taking him. Thank you. I can’t stand the thought of him being upset and no one coming for him.”

Charity doesn’t quite know where to look in the face of this sincerity, so she settles for the floor with intermittent glances at Vanessa’s face. “So, erm, what was that you were saying about me being on his list?”

To her surprise, Vanessa grins a little. “Mrs Richards is almost aggressively supportive of what she calls the ‘non traditional family model’.” She tilts her head at Charity. “When I came in today she asked me if I wanted her to put my ‘partner’ on Johnny’s pick up list so there’s no confusion about you being able to take him.”

“And you just said yes?” Charity can’t wrap her head around it. No one in their right mind wants her looking after their kids.

“Don’t start with the ‘I’m a terrible mum’ thing.” Vanessa looks at her sternly. “Look at how great you were with him today!” Vanessa shrugs. “Maybe I should have asked you first, but I figured it makes sense? They both go to the same childminder after nursery, we could take turns taking them?”

The stress of the last couple of hours seeps away. “Yeah, that sounds good,” she manages, relieved beyond words that Vanessa isn’t angry at her. Is, in fact, pleased with her.

And then she realises with a sinking feeling that this probably means they’re going to leave now.

“Are you baking tonight?” she manages to say nonchalantly, like she doesn’t care about the answer either way.

Vanessa shakes her head. “I’m exhausted. And I want to spend some time with Johnny.” She ruffles his hair as he gives her leg a thorough hug. “With Rhona on holiday work’s been so busy, and I haven’t really had any time to practice anything. But I’m taking tomorrow to run through the baked several times.”

Charity feels her mouth moving before she can think about it. “Want to stay for tea? I’ll get Marlon to make it.”

Vanessa smiles. “We’d love that, wouldn’t we Johnny?”

He nods enthusiastically and Charity feels her good mood from the morning settle back over her.

***   
Of course, the next day it all comes crashing down.

_ “Mum,”_ Debbie says on the phone, her voice thick with tears. _ “It’s Sarah.” _

It’s practically the law, she knows, that the minute anything makes her remotely happy, something has to come along and destroy it. 

But this feels like a bucket of ice water after the happy, floating feeling she’s had since Vanessa and Johnny were over yesterday.

She rushes to her car but her fingers are shaking and she drops the keys. “Shit!” she shouts loudly, then as she rises realises she’s taken Chas’s keys by accident. “Shit shit shit!”

“Charity?” 

She turns and Vanessa is there, carrying about five thousand grocery bags and looking concerned.

“Are you ok?”

“Do I bloody look ok?” she snaps, then regrets it immediately. “Sarah’s at the hospital.” Her voice shakes and she swallows hard.

_She’ll be ok_ she repeats in her head like a mantra.

Vanessa’s eyes widen. “Oh no, what’s happened?”

Charity feels her hands shake and she clenches them together. “Don’t know yet. She fainted and the ambulance took her in.”

Vanessa looks at her for a moment, then nods. “Ok, let me just drop this stuff inside and I’ll drive you.”

“What?” Charity stares at her.

“I’m not letting you drive like this.”

It’s pointless to argue with that facial expression, Charity knows.

And she’s probably right; the state she’s in right now she knows she’d be speeding. The last thing they need is for her to crash on the way.

*** 

Of course, in her panic she hadn’t considered what it looks like, that Vanessa takes her in and goes with her to the children’s ward. 

Debbie watches them carefully, but not disapprovingly, as they hurry down the long hallway towards her. 

“How is she?” Charity asks quickly. Clearing up her relationship status will have to wait.

“They think it’s the flu.” Debbie lets out a long breath. “And her immune system is too weak to be able to handle it yet.”

“But it’s July!” Charity exclaims, like that should settle it. “Can we see her?”

“They’re running tests.” Debbie tells them. “They won’t let me in with her.”

“She’ll be ok.” Charity hears her voice shake. “She has to be.” Because she can’t even think about her not being alright. 

“Come on,” Vanessa coaxes her. “Let’s sit down.”

She lets herself be led, and holds onto Vanessa’s hand like a lifeline. She knows Debbie is watching this, but Charity doesn’t think she could let go if she tried.

*** 

The tests take hours. She’s had a lot of practice over the years in waiting in hospitals but it doesn’t get any easier.

Vanessa stays the whole time. She gives up on trying to have conversations with her and Debbie, but she holds Charity’s hand and gently rubs her back and gets her a coffee and it helps. To feel less achingly alone.

Debbie calls Cain, who’s off at some agricultural show with Moira but they decide to head back, and all through the frantic calls to the clan, Vanessa is there. 

It’s almost four when the doctors come through to speak to them, to tell them that Sarah’s got to stay until she’s a bit stronger but she’s going to be alright. It’s only then, when Charity finally feels like she can breathe again, that she realises how long they’ve been there.

“You were going to do your practice bakes today!” she says, looking at Vanessa in horror. She’s got so wrapped up in herself that she didn’t even consider whether Vanessa could afford to be spending a whole day camped out here with her.

Vanessa shrugs. “I’ll do them when I get back.”

“But Johnny will be back by then.” And Vanessa’s got to go down for the next round tomorrow. “Why didn’t you just go?”

“Charity,” Vanessa tells her firmly. “This is where I needed to be.” She shakes her head. “You are way more important than cake, ok?”

“Try telling Noah that,” she mumbles, to cover the fact that the warm feeling is back, the one she doesn’t quite know what to do with. It’s almost an ache in her stomach, but in a good way.

“Are you guys coming in?” Debbie asks from the door to Sarah’s room.

“Oh, I’ll wait out here.” Vanessa quickly backs away. 

“Don’t be daft.” Debbie jerks her head. “Come on.”

*** 

Vanessa ends up staying another hour. She chatters away to Sarah about her ginger and lime millionaires shortbread traybake signature and her caramel cake showstopper that she’s going to make at the weekend, and she only leaves when Charity escorts her firmly out the door with a promise to keep her updated.

On impulse, Charity hugs her at the elevator, and she feels slightly off balance when she draws back from having Vanessa’s warm body against her.

This must be what it feels like, to have proper friends. That warm, comforting feeling, like drinking a hot chocolate on a cold day.

Even though her heart is racing again. The adrenaline of the afternoon must still be in her.

When Charity comes back to the room, Sarah is asleep. Debbie leans into her as she sinks into the seat next to her. 

“She’s a good one,” Debbie says softly. “Vanessa.”

A lump forms in her throat. She _is_ a good one. She’s there for Charity. In a way she doesn’t remember anyone being there for her before.

“I know,” she whispers back, rather than explaining, and allows herself to indulge in this fantasy world, where she has a good, kind partner, and where her daughter is proud of her choices.


	8. Part VIII: Mirror Glaze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things heat up in the kitchen when Vanessa takes on chocolate week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly your comments make my day! Hopefully your weekly dose of sickly sweetness will make up for what’s to come on the show this week! Thanks for all your lovely comments! :)

**Part VIII: Mirror Glaze**

_Chocolate_

Charity manages to get through almost the whole of Saturday before she caves and messages Vanessa when she’s walking back to Sarah’s room from the loos. She’s been worried all day and needs to set her mind at rest.

_How did it go?_

She barely has to wait thirty seconds before Vanessa’s face lights up her screen.

“Hey.” 

_ “Hey!”_ Vanessa sounds tired. _ “I was going to call but I didn’t know if you were still in the hospital. How’s Sarah?” _

Charity lets out a long breath. “She’s better. They’re talking about keeping her in tomorrow but maybe letting her out on Monday.”

She hears Vanessa release a breath. _ “Thank god.” _

“How did you get on?” She’s almost afraid to ask, and the hesitation on the other end makes her heart start hammering.

_ “Not great.”_ She can tell Vanessa’s trying to sound upbeat but is terrible at it. She’s not a great liar, and normally Charity appreciates that about her. There are more than enough liars in her life.

The guilt she’s been trying to push down rushes back in full force. What if Vanessa goes out because Charity stopped her from having time to practice? “Vanessa,” she starts, but she’s immediately cut off.

_ “Don’t.” _ Her voice sounds more genuinely upbeat now. _ “I made stupid mistakes and that’s my fault, not yours. And I chose to stay with you instead of practicing. Maybe it’s time for me to go out anyway. Spend some time with my son. Bake for fun.” _

“I’m still sorry.” She is. It doesn’t happen often but it’s true. 

_ “I’m not. I’m proud of what I’ve done no matter what happens tomorrow.” _

Charity almost says that she’s proud of her too, but chickens out at the last minute. It’s not really her place to say stuff like that, and she doesn’t want to make things weird.

So they say goodnight and hang up, but Charity still finds herself thinking about Vanessa when she’s back in Sarah’s room.

It must be written on her face, because Sarah asks her straight out. 

“Did you speak to Vanessa?”

She nods. “Yeah. She says hi.”

Sarah bites her lip. “I heard you say to her test that she didn’t have time to practice because of me.”

“Babe!” Charity quickly shakes her head. “It’s not your fault.”

Sarah’s lip wobbles. “I don’t want her to go out because of me.”

“She won’t.” Charity nods firmly. “Vanessa’s a great baker. And she’s good in a crisis, yeah? That’s pretty much a key requirement of her job. And if she does go out, well-“

“She’ll have us,” Sarah nods, like that was what Charity was going to say, instead of ‘then that’s how it’s meant to be’.

She swallows hard. She needs to come clean, to Debbie and her grandkids about what’s going on with her and Vanessa. 

The trouble is, pretending it’s real is getting easier every day.

*** 

_ “I made it!” _ Vanessa squeals the minute Charity picks up the phone on Sunday afternoon. _ “By the skin of my teeth, but I made it. _

Charity sags against the bar and when Chas raises her eyebrows and Charity gives her a thumbs up, Chas starts doing a silent victory dance.

“That’s great,” she says lamely, wishing she could put into words how she feels. Relieved. Oddly proud. Her heart started thumping just seeing Vanessa’s name on her phone.

_ “I’m going to really have to pull myself together for next week, though.”_ Vanessa has her determined voice on and Charity’s glad to hear the defeat of yesterday is no where to be heard. _ “But it’s chocolate and I’m usually pretty good at that.”_

“You’ll do great,” she tells Vanessa firmly. Charity’s going to make sure of that.

When she gets off the phone, Chas is watching her carefully.

“Sorry, your royal highness, am I now not even allowed to answer calls in my own pub?” she snarks. She’s embarrassed, somehow, that Chas witnessed her call with Vanessa, even though she doesn’t quite understand why.

“You two really are friends, aren’t you?” she says, sounding surprised. “At first I thought you were just using her-“

“Thanks a lot!”

“-but you genuinely like her, don’t you?”

Charity shrugs, trying not to show on her face how everything seems lighter since her and Vanessa became friends. How she laughs more, feels like she can actually face the day.

Vanessa’s bossy and she thinks she knows best all the time, but the thing is that she usually _does_, and Charity actually believes that she’s in her corner. 

“I suppose she’s alright,” she tells Chas, but her voice is kind of scratchy and she has to clear her throat right after, and Chas just gives her a knowing smile that makes Charity want to pick a fight just to wipe it off her face.

*** 

On Tuesday night, Charity is about to head over to Debbie’s to watch Bakeoff with her and a newly-home Sarah, when Vanessa comes through from the pub.

“Chas let me through,” she says quickly. “I know you’re heading to Debbie’s but I wanted to bring you this.”

She holds out a Tupperware box with what looks like half a chocolate cake inside.

“I’m surprised you managed to bring that back here without the horde out there mobbing you.” 

Vanessa winks. “I bravely defended your cake with my life.”

“My hero.” Charity takes the box from her and her fingers brush Vanessa’s. She’s got lovely, soft hands, Vanessa does. Charity noticed that at the back of her mind in the hospital, when Vanessa held her hand all afternoon. You wouldn’t think she spends her days touching gross animals with hands like that.

She realises suddenly that Vanessa is saying something and blinks quickly. “What?”

Vanessa frowns. “Are you alright? You seem distracted.”

Charity nods, trying to cover for her blip in concentration. “Sorry, I was just thinking…that Noah will be well upset that he missed out on this cake.”

“Aha!” Vanessa reaches into her bag and pulls out another, smaller box with a single piece of cake. “I’ve planned ahead.”

And of course she has. She’s thoughtful, Vanessa is. Enjoys pleasing other people. 

“Thank you.” She suddenly feels like she’s saying it for more the cake. _Thank you for being my friend. Thank you for seeing something worth liking on me. _

God, she’s emotional at the moment.

“So practice is going well?” Charity babbles, before any of that emotional drivel actually spills out of her.

Vanessa makes a face. “Yeah, I mean this is the signature bake and it’s fine but I haven’t even started making the chocolate centrepiece for the showstopper and I’m really worried about it. After last week, if I do badly this time I’m definitely out. But it’s really hard to melt chocolate and do a mirror glaze with a toddler around and Tracy’s got her hands fully running the shop while David’s at a convention.”

Before Charity’s mouth can catch up to her brain, she finds herself saying “Look, I have the day off on Thursday. Why don’t I take Johnny and you can spend all day practicing.”

Even more surprising than those words coming out of her mouth is that it doesn’t seem completely horrendous, to be spending a day with two excitable kids.

Johnny’s incredibly well behaved and some of that seems to be rubbing off on Moses because he’s got really into his ‘please’ and ‘thank you’s in the last couple of weeks, even if it’s not always in the right order.

“Really?” Vanessa gives her a curious look. “Why?”

“Oh, right, because I’m me every time I offer to do something nice it has to have an ulterior notice?” 

Vanessa rolls her eyes, but it’s in that fond way that Charity’s noticed she does when she’s ignoring Charity’s mood swings and overreactions. “No, because you might want to spend your day off doing something you actually enjoy.”

“Well, I _enjoy_ my pub being rammed with punters wanting to watch the show with you every Tuesday, so it would be good if you could try to stay in it.”

“Right,” Vanessa nods, doing a fake serious face. “It’s all about business.”

“Exactly.” She doesn’t look at Vanessa because she knows she’ll start smiling like an idiot, and she has a reputation to uphold after all. “All I want from you is a Hollywood handshake, is that so much to ask?”

“I’ll do my best,” Vanessa calls over her shoulder as she heads out.

Charity saunters over to Debbie’s in a great mood. The cake is a hit and it’s fun to watch Vanessa do well in bread week, which seems like so long ago. 

The only slightly weird thing is that somehow Vanessa’s arms look really muscly on the screen as she kneads the dough with her hands. Charity’s never noticed that before and it makes her feel kind of weird. It’s distracting. But then, Vanessa is a beautiful woman, there’s no denying that, and in the end Charity decides there’s no problem with looking a little, for aesthetic reasons.

*** 

It’s just gone three on Thursday and the kids have just settled in front of the TV, when there’s a rapid, anxious knock on the door.

Charity sighs as she pulls herself up from her seat at the kitchen table where she’s just sat down with a freshly made brew and heads through to the door.

It’s Tracy, looking frazzled, with her normally neat hair a bit of a mess.

“What’s going on?” Charity asks. “I thought you weren’t coming for Johnny until the shop closes at six?”

“We’ve got a bit of a situation.” Tracy chews her lip, and Charity frowns and leans closer.

“What’s that on your face?” Tracy’s absolutely covered in little brown flecks.

Tracy sighs and lowers her voice. “I went over to Vanessa’s to see if she needed anything…”

“AKA seeing if you could nab anything to eat,” Charity interjects as Tracy gives her the stink eye for interrupting.

“…and she’s losing it. Like properly.”

“What?” Charity straightens up. “She’s upset?”

“Upset is one word for it.” Tracy tilts her head and her tone turns a little sarcastic. “Another few words for it would be throwing bowls of chocolate around the place.”

“_What?_”

“She’s been so calm,” Tracy says, suddenly talking really quickly like she needs to get it out. “She’s been doing so well and not getting too stressed until now but I think the pressure’s really got to her this week.” She looks at Charity. “Can you go over there and talk some sense into her?”

“Me?” She almost glances behind herself to see if someone more qualified is maybe standing over her shoulder. “Why me? Why not Rhona?”

Tracy puts her hands on her hips. “You’re friends, aren’t you?” 

“Well, yes, but-“

“Also Rhona’s still away with Leo this week.”

“Ah, the truth comes out!” Charity isn’t surprised but it still stings a bit. “I’m the last resort.”

“Oh come on Charity,” Tracy says impatiently. “Look, I know you and Vanessa have become friends, god knows how-“

“Again, ouch!”

“-but she likes you and she trusts you and I know you care about her and she needs someone to talk her down right now.”

Charity sighs like she’s actually thinking about it. “Fine. Stay here with the little monsters while I pop over there and see what I can do.”

It’s a hot summers day so Charity slides into her sandals and hurried across to Tug Ghyll.

There’s a brown handprint on the doorknob, and she braces herself, knocks and opens the door.

“Hello?” she calls out. “Vanessa?”

There’s a banging sound in the kitchen area and Charity steps through into the living space only to stop short at the chaos.

She’s been here before when Vanessa has been baking, of course she has. But she’s usually quite methodical about tidying and doing washing up as she goes along, especially since she doesn’t exactly have much workspace.

But every surface Charity can see is covered in chocolate. Chocolate in shapes, chocolate smears and stains, chocolate puddles on the floor. Crumbs of brown cake, dirty mixing bowls and stained wooden spoons.

And amongst the chaos is Vanessa, face bright red as she holds open a bin bag and shoves a mess of cake and melted chocolate into it.

“Vanessa!” Charity exclaims without really knowing where she’s going with her sentence.

Vanessa looks up, wiping at her face with her forearms. She’s got a T-shirt on and her arm muscles flex as she moves, momentarily distracting Charity. Seriously, where does a vet get arms like that?

She realises suddenly how warm it is in here: the heat from summer outside is absolutely sweltering inside, especially as the oven still appears to be on.

There’s also, she sees now, remnants of something black and charred sitting on the stove which Vanessa picks up and begins scraping out of a tin. Charity winces.

“I see practice is going very well.”

“If you’ve just come to gloat, please come back later.” Vanessa sounds both furious and close to tears. “I just want to be left alone.”

Charity lets out a long breath, then walks over to Vanessa. It’s kind of heartbreaking when someone usually so upbeat loses it and Charity’s never seen Vanessa like this.

“Alright, stop.”

She grabs Vanessa’s wrists before she can continue to use a huge knife to scrape burnt bits of cake out of the tin she’s holding.

“I can’t stop!” Vanessa explodes. “I don’t have time to stop. I don’t have time for Johnny or my actual job because all I can think about is this _stupid chocolate centrepiece_ but it’s too hot in here and I don’t have the space and-“

A few frustrated tears leak out and something clenches inside Charity’s stomach in response.

“Babe,” she says, firmly but kindly. “You need to take a breath.”

Vanessa looks around herself and her lower lip starts to tremble.

Oh boy. Charity is not emotionally equipped for a full on meltdown.

“Right.” A plan is forming in her head. It’s only half moulded but she’s worked with less, and right now action is needed. “Come with me.”

“What?” Vanessa stares up at her but it’s too late; Charity has already started dragging her out of the house. “Where are we going?”

Charity doesn’t reply. She just holds tighter onto Vanessa’s soft, slightly sticky hand and pulls her to her front door, dragging her through to where Tracy and the boys are.

“Wash all that chocolate off yourself,” Charity tells her, “and wait here.”

Then, before Vanessa can object, Charity has marched through to the bar and taken the specials blackboard from the wall.

“Hey!” Matty cries as she begins rubbing it out. “That’s some of my best handwriting.”

_Kitchen closed today – sorry_ she scrawls on before setting it back on the shelf.

She takes a bracing breath before she enters the kitchen because Marlon can be a bit of a diva but needs must. 

“Good news!” she announces as she swings the door open. “You can both go home early!”

Marlon and Victoria exchange confused looks before turning back to Charity. “What are you on about?” Marlon asks, his hands full of chopped carrots.

“The kitchen is closing.” Charity marches over and turns off the stove, causing shouts of protest from Victoria.

“You can’t just do that!” Marlon says. “My bolognese!”

“What’s everyone going to eat?” Victoria asks.

“It’s a Thursday.” Charity opens her arms. “No one wants to order food on a Thursday!”

“Er, the bowling club always come in for tea on a Thursday!” Marlon starts counting off his fingers. “And Diane likes to come in on a Thursday and sometimes she brings Robert and he brings Aaron and. –“

“Alright! I get the picture!” Charity closes her eyes briefly. How is she related to this man? “Either way, clean up and get out. You have ten minutes.”

“You can’t just do that!” Marlon repeats.

“It is _my_ pub,” Charity says emphatically, a fact she seems to have to repeat an inordinate amount to get the staff to do what she says. “So if you like your jobs, get on with it.”

“I’m telling Chas,” Marlon grumbles, but he pulls out a box and starts putting the carrots into it. “I wonder if any dictators have openings for a chef? I bet the working environment would be better.”

Charity pretends not to hear him and marches back through the back.

Miraculously, Noah has appeared from upstairs, where he has spent the vast majority of his summer hiding out doing god knows what in that smelly cave he calls a room.

Johnny and Moses are playing happily on the floor, while Vanessa stares determinedly at a spot on the carpet.

Beside her, Tracy keeps rolling her eyes. Charity gathers any pep talk she has attempted has fallen flat.

“Alright,” Charity announces to her unenthusiastic audience. “Noah, don’t just stand there, make Vanessa a brew.”

“Oh, I’m alri-“

“Shush.” Charity hasn’t finished yet. “You are going to sit there and drink your tea and then you are going to go through to the pub kitchen and practice your melted chocolate thingy.”

Vanessa looks up, her eyes widening. “Charity, I can’t-“

“Shush,” Charity repeats. “Noah is going to babysit for me so I can start my evening shift and Tracy is going to clean your kitchen for when you’re done.”

“How do I get stuck with cleaning?” Tracy squawks. 

Charity gives her a mean little smile. “Well, first choice friends usually help with cleaning but as I’m only a last resort I think this is a sister job.”

Tracy sighs but nods, and Noah places a milky tea in front of Vanessa, who gives him a little smile in return. Which is an improvement. Charity nods in satisfaction.

Everything is going to be just fine.

*** 

Charity squares her shoulders the minute Chas appears behind the bar through the door to the back room. She’s been preparing for this argument but she still needs to ready herself, because Chas is very good at hitting her exactly where it hurts.

“You have the night off, remember?” she says, trying for blasé but not quite pulling it off.

“Marlon called me in a tizzy.” To Charity’s surprise, Chas sounds vaguely amused. “Said he’d been evicted.”

“Look,” Charity starts, turning to face Chas. “Vanessa was having a total meltdown, she didn’t have enough space in her kitchen and she was all upset and it’s one evening of no food, I think we can probably manage that.”

“I agree,” Chas says.

“And…wait, what?” Charity stares at her. “You’re not mad?”

Chas shrugs. “It’s your pub too.”

“_Finally_ someone remembers that.” 

“Plus it’s quite nice to see you actually caring about someone this much.”

Charity stops short. “What do you mean?”

Chas gives her a knowing smirk. “Nothing. Just, you wouldn’t have closed the kitchens for just anyone.”

What on earth has Chas been smoking? “Well, obviously not. No one else is on Bakeoff!”

“Mmh hmm.” Chas has that faux innocent look on her face that Charity knows so well. “Look, why don’t I cover here for a moment and you can check how Vanessa’s getting on?”

Charity tilts her head. “Are you voluntarily saying you’ll cover my shift?” Something very weird is going on here.

Shrugging, Chas reaches for a pint glass. “I can manage half an hour.”

This all seems fairly suspicious but Charity’s not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so she hurries to the kitchens.

She pauses outside the door to listen but although there’s the sound of clattering, it doesn’t sound like Vanessa is throwing things so it seems safe enough to enter.

“Knock knock,” she calls, pushing open the door.

“Charity!” To her relief, Vanessa is smiling. In front of her is the most enormous chocolate creation Charity has ever seen: an huge shiny half sphere of chocolate decorated with intricate white chocolate piping. “Look, it worked!”

“So I see!” She suddenly feels a bit awkward, like she doesn’t quite know what to say. It’s weird, to feel that way around Vanessa.

“Sorry about the mess.” Vanessa looks a little sheepish. “I’ll clean up so Marlon doesn’t have a heart attack.”

Charity rounds the island and peers into an empty bowl. “Have you finished with this?”

Vanessa nods and laughs and Charity wastes no time in licking the spoon.

“You and Noah are exactly the same.” Vanessa shakes her head. “Always after a taste.”

Charity shrugs; she’s too busy eating delicious melted chocolate to argue.

“You know what makes it taste way better?” 

Vanessa steps closer and suddenly Charity is hit with a wave of her perfume: fruity and light like the summer’s day outside. 

And something’s not right because her heart starts thumping hard and her stomach is twisting and-

Vanessa takes the spoon gently out of her hand, looking into Charity’s eyes and for a moment Charity thinks she’s going to-

And then Vanessa bops the chocolate covered spoon on her nose. It’s still warm and wet and it drips slowly down to her lip, which drops open in shock.

For a moment neither of them move and then Vanessa’s face dissolved in helpless laughter. She laughs so hard tears start leaking from her eyes. “Oh my _god_,” she gasps between laughs. “Your _face!_”

Charity reaches up to wipe it off, but it’s very wet and she somehow manages to smear it over her cheek as well.

“S-s-sorry.” Vanessa’s apology is slightly undermined by the fact that she’s still doubled over laughing. “I just couldn’t resist.”

Charity shrugs, still in shock.

“Let me help you.” Vanessa’s still sniggering as she picks up the kitchen roll and approaches her. 

Charity is lightening fast. Her hand darts into the bowl and scoops out a handful of molten chocolate, and with a satisfying squelch it lands squarely on Vanessa’s astonished face.

This time it’s Charity who cackles, but Vanessa isn’t down for long. Within seconds there’s chocolate and crumbs and utensils flying as they laugh and duck around each other.

Every so often a bit of chocolate will make its way into Charity’s mouth and it’s delicious but also making her thirsty. Vanessa’s normally neat ponytail is sticking out at odd angles and is covered in splotches.

When they eventually stop, panting, next to Vanessa’s showstopper which is miraculously still in tact, Charity finds herself grinning ear to ear.

“Marlon is going to kill us,” Vanessa huffs out, clutching her side. 

Charity looks around at the carnage and nods. “He really is.”

Vanessa nudges her gently with her shoulder, looking up at her with big eyes. “Hey, erm, thanks for today. For calming me down and letting me practice here.”

Charity feels her face heating up. “Yeah, no problem.” She feels awkward again, like she might say the wrong thing at any moment.

“If I make it through this week, it’ll be the semi final next week.” Vanessa laughs a little nervously. “They want to come back to the village and film some more background stuff if I do get through.”

Charity clears her throat. “We can have them in the pub this time. I’ll even get the kids out if you want us all to look extra adorable.”

“Yeah?” Vanessa looks relieved, and Charity nods.

“Yeah, course.” Her voice feels heavy somehow. She’s suddenly very aware of how close they’re standing.

Vanessa reaches for her hand, and enclosed it gently with her own. They’re both sticky with chocolate but somehow she doesn’t mind.

“I’ve been meaning to say,” Vanessa tells her softly, “thank you. Not just for today but for how amazing you’ve been.” She holds up a hand to silence Charity’s protest. “No, let me finish.”

Vanessa gives a little brittle laugh.

“I didn’t know, before we became friends, how lonely I’d been. How much I needed someone to rely on. And I’d never have imagined you could be that person but you have been and I just wanted to say, thank you.”

“Vanessa.” Charity’s throat feels thick, and her heart is racing. “Do you really mean that?”

Vanessa nods and something in Charity’s stomach curls pleasantly. 

She’s never been a comfort, someone reliable, for anyone. She’s the exciting bit on the side for a while, the dirty secret.

Charity digs her nails into her palms. She wants to tell Vanessa how she makes her feel like she can do things, like she can be a first choice and not a burden, like not everything she touches necessarily turns to disaster.

But the words get stuck somehow and instead she just manages to croak our “Vanessa,” again.

“Isn’t it sad, that this fake relationship is the best one I’ve ever been in?” Vanessa asks her, looking up at her with those big eyes, and the words hit her like a blow to the chest. Charity realises with a sudden urgency that that thing inside her every time Vanessa looks at her or calls her or texts her or touches her is the almost overwhelming urge to kiss her, hold her. 

And Vanessa’s looking at her like she might feel the same.

She’s never been good at impulse control. Charity leans in, trailing her cleanest hand gently along Vanessa’s cheek, and when Vanessa leans into her fingers and her pupils widen a little, and she lets out a little helpless gasp, Charity softly presses their lips together.

Vanessa hesitates only for the briefest of seconds before she’s kissing her back.

It’s slow and sticky and sweet. There’s a height difference the other way to which Charity is used to it and her head is still spinning with the sudden realisation that she _wants_ Vanessa, but it’s still a good kiss. One of the best she’s ever had, if she’s honest. 

And Vanessa is going for it: her hands are in Charity’s hair and her mouth opens and she’s making these little sounds in the back of her throat and-

“It’s been five hours!” Marlon shouts as he bangs open the door and they jolt apart like they’ve been stung. “Oh my god, what have you done to my kitchen!”

Charity tries to take a steadying breath. Vanessa stumbles back a little. 

“Is that the time?” she asks, high pitched. “I need to go make sure Johnny’s had his tea.”

“Vanessa!” Charity says, following her. 

“I’ll call you tomorrow?” Vanessa grabs her creation. “Thanks for letting me use the kitchen.”

“You had better help me sort this out, or so help me Charity…” Marlon mumbles as Vanessa makes her escape.

Charity squeezes her eyes shut. What have they done?


	9. Part IX: A Watched Oven Never Bakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charity tries to come to terms with the kids, and what it might mean, while Vanessa competes in the Quarter Final.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been SO HARD to stay focused on writing this this week with what’s been going on on the show. Thank you all for your incredible comments keeping me motivated.
> 
> That being said I feel really bad because we’ve reached the angsty bit of this story which is incredibly poor timing given that you’ve all been telling me this is a soft and fluffy escape! 😂😭 Just know this doesn’t last and I’ll fix it for you soon!

**Part IX: A Watched Oven Never Bakes **

_Quarter Finals_

Charity spends the rest of the day feeling outside her body, like she’s looking down on herself and can’t quite comprehend what’s happening.

She’s become so good at shoving feelings down, because they’re often so painful, that they’ve become hard for her to recognise.

But looking back on it, she feels like a total idiot. Because she’s the signs have been there all along, she realises that now. 

Hell, the way Vanessa coming into a room makes her heart beat a bit faster was a pretty big clue.

But she hasn’t had these kinds of feelings in the longest time. To be quite honest, she’s not sure she’s _ever _ had feelings like this.

And what is she supposed to do with this now? She doesn’t know what to do. Not properly. Not with someone like Vanessa.

Anyway, Charity’s not built for relationships. Every single one she’s ever had has ended in such a spectacular disaster that they could each be the subject of a channel 5 made-for-TV movie all of their own. 

She lies awake half the night, torn between wanting to march over to Vanessa’s house and ask her what the hell is going on between them, and wanting to hide up here forever.

She’s pretty sure Vanessa was taken by surprise too. Granted, she kissed Charity back pretty much straight away, but then she ran out of there so fast she practically had a cloud of dust following her.

So really, what’s even the point in thinking about this because it’s not like someone like Vanessa is going to want to actually be with someone like Charity. What a ridiculous idea.

*** 

Vanessa doesn’t text her the next day like she normally does, and Charity dithers around her phone all morning trying to make up her mind whether she should just confront the issue or let Vanessa make the first move.

She’s not usually this indecisive and she’s driving herself nuts. 

“What’s up with you?” Chas asks her several times that morning. 

“Nothing!” Charity bites back every time, checking her phone and then the clock, and on a couple of occasions even going outside on a made up errand go check if Vanessa’s car is still there.

Vanessa usually drives down to the competition around three on a Friday, so she can have dinner with the rest of the contestants. And with so few of them left, they’ve become pretty close knit. But Vanessa’s car’s still there and she can’t help but wonder if that means something.

It’s half past three and Charity is ‘taking the bins out’ for the third time that day, when she spots Tracy and Vanessa standing by Vanessa’s car.

Charity’s palms immediately start to sweat and her insides feel like they’ve melted. She rolls her eyes at herself but it doesn’t help. She’s got butterflies over a girl, like she’s Noah’s age and not a grown up.

Vanessa looks up just as Charity is debating whether to head over or run back inside like a coward. She compromises by freezing in place when Vanessa smiles shyly at her, and then hurried across the street towards her.

“Hi.” Vanessa does a half hearted little wave as she approaches, and it’s so stupidly endearing that Charity feels vaguely sickened by her own sappiness.

“Alright?” Charity manages a fairly casual tone, belying the fact that she’s just spent pretty much the last twenty hours thinking about their kiss non stop.

“So, erm, I’m running pretty late today,” Vanessa says, and Charity can tell she’s anxious because she’s talking really fast. “But I just wanted to say again, thank you for letting me use your kitchen.”

“No bother.” So this is how it’s going to be. They’re going to ignore it. She’s both relieved and horribly disappointed.

“And, erm, I’m sorry. About running out on you yesterday.”

Or not. 

Charity bites her lip, scuffing her shoe against the floor and sticking her hands in her pockets. 

“I just…” Vanessa sighs.

“Vee, you have to go!” Tracy bellows across the street.

Charity forces herself to look up. “You’re being summoned.” Her voice is much softer than she means it to come out and it’s like her body is just acting completely without her input now.

Vanessa looks around at Tracy helplessly, then at her watch and finally back at Charity. “Look, I want to talk to you. Have a proper talk. But I-“

“Go.” Somehow, despite the brush off, Charity finds herself smiling. She knows that if she said she wanted to talk now, talk all night, Vanessa would stay. But she’s worked so hard for this quarter final and Charity desperately wants it to go well for her. “You should go. Don’t think about anything else, just focus on this.”

Vanessa’s eyes widen. “Yeah?”

Charity nods. “Yeah. We can… we’ll talk when you get back.”

Vanessa gives her a small, grateful smile, and then suddenly she’s wrapping her arms around Charity and is hugging her. Charity’s arms barely have time to catch up before Vanessa’s pulling away again, but her perfume and her faint smell of chocolate lingers.

“I, erm, I meant what I said,” she blurts out in a rush as she pulls back from Charity. “That you’ve been great.”

“I mean, yeah, that’s me!” Charity jokes weakly, but her heart is beating so fast she almost feels sick. “Right, get going!”

“Alright.” Vanessa lingers for a moment more, then hurries across the street. 

Charity watches her get in, and returns her little wave as she drives off.

“See, even Charity waves her girlfriend off when she goes away,” Bernice says to Liam as they walk past. 

“Yes but I’m assuming Vanessa is going further than the Hotten Tesco,” Liam replies.

It’s weird, to think that some people think this is actually happening between them. That it’s already a reality. 

But if they believe it, is it so outlandish that Vanessa might too?

*** 

She doesn’t hear from Vanessa on Saturday, and it makes Charity worry all over again. 

She hasn’t had mood swings like these since she was pregnant. One minute she finds herself grinning into thin air, the next she’s convinced herself that it was a huge mistake. That Vanessa will think it’s a huge mistake.

Her head is a mess. It’s almost too much, these feelings which are constantly bombarding her. 

Does she even _want_ to go there with Vanessa? Sure, they have a laugh. Ok, and Charity likes being around her. Likes being around her more than she likes being around most people, if she’s being completely honest. And that kiss they had… it’s been a long time since she’s been kissed in a way that made her toes curl and her which made her _ache_ to touch and peel off each layer slowly, slowly. Take her time.

But Vanessa doesn’t text her, so it doesn’t even matter how Charity feels because she’s clearly not that keen.

“Oh great, that face again,” Chas tells her on Sunday morning when she comes downstairs and finds Charity glaring at her tea. “I don’t want to have to look at that, I’m having a relaxing Sunday.”

“Fine!” Charity snaps. It feels good to let some of the pent up energy out in the form of anger. “I’ll leave.”

“Charity!” Chas calls, exasperated, but Charity just storms out. She finds herself heading to the shop, and tells herself they need bread, probably. She definitely doesn’t hope Tracy’s working or anything.

David is behind the counter and Charity’s mood plummets even further. But then she spots Tracy in the corner, stacking packs of toilet roll into some sort of pyramid.

“You and Vanessa are such talented sisters,” Charity drawls. “She bakes, you create sculpture out of bog roll…”

“Charity!” Tracy squeals, jumping at the voice behind her. “You gave me a heart attack!”

Charity shrugs and tries to look like she’s browsing David’s meagre bread selection instead of hoping that Tracy’s going to say something about Vanessa.

Luckily, Tracy can’t stand a silence.

“Great news about Vee, isn’t it?”  
She beams. “Hollywood handshake for her signature!”

Charity feels like someone’s punched her in the gut. Vanessa got a Hollywood handshake and didn’t tell her about it?

“Yeah, it’s great,” she mumbles, trying not to let her face slip. She doesn’t need Tracy reporting back to Vanessa that she’s been moping just because she hasn’t called her. She’s not that pathetic.

“I just _know_ she’s going to smash this week and next week and make it to the final,” Tracy chatters on. “She keeps telling me she doesn’t want to talk about it but I’ve been looking at outfits for the garden party and I have some _great_ options picked out.”

Maybe she didn’t have signal yesterday? But Charity checks her phone and there’s no missed calls. She has to face facts: Vanessa didn’t want to speak to her.

“But I just don’t know if heels on grass are the best option, I don’t want to be the numpty that’s sinking into the grass in the background, you know?”

Maybe she’ll call Charity tonight. Or even come by, if she doesn’t come back up too late. Maybe Charity should go to Tug Ghyll? No, that’s a stupid idea. Charity doesn’t chase after anyone. 

“What are you going to wear?”

“What?” Charity jolts our of her increasingly frantic inner monologue. 

“To the final!” Tracy widens her eyes expectantly. “Ooh, a suit? That would be very gay chic!”

“Maybe just let Vanessa get through this week and the semi final first,” David pipes up, saying the first sensible thing Charity’s heard out of his mouth in months. “This kind of talk probably puts a lot of pressure on Vanessa.”

“Hmmm.” Tracy shrugs but stage whispers “I’ll send you some pictures later,” and Charity grimaces and heads to the till.

*** 

At thirteen minutes past four that afternoon, Vanessa’s name lights up her phone. Charity’s grabs for it so quickly that she knocks her pen off the bar and Chas jerks back a bit from where she’s leaning next to Charity.

Should she answer?

Her finger makes the decision before her brain can have any input. 

“Hello?” she says, heading through the door out of the bar, trying not to sound like she answered on the first ring like some loser.

“Hey,” Vanessa says softly, “you’re on TV.”

“What?”

“I got Star Baker!” 

Charity’s face breaks out into a grin. Vanessa’s been close so many times, but this is the first time she’s managed to win and it’s kind of ridiculous how pleased she is for her.

“That’s amazing, babe.” And before she can hold it in she says “I’m really proud of you.”

“Thank you.” Vanessa sounds a little choked up, and it makes Charity’s eyes prickle a bit. “Look, I’m sorry, we’re still rolling but I’ll… I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” Charity nods even though she knows Vanessa can’t see. “You deserve this.”

“Only because you helped me.” 

There’s a voice in the background and Vanessa sighs.

“Go.” Charity feels like that’s all she’s ever telling Vanessa nowadays. “Go.”

“Bye,” Vanessa says softly, and then there’s a beeping as the call ends.

But she did call. Charity’s going to be the squealing phone-a-friend in the semi final, the bit she always finds a bit twee and annoying but which Sarah seems to love.

Just wait until her granny is on it, she’ll probably be mortified then.

*** 

Charity checks out of the window several times an hour but Vanessa’s car doesn’t appear back in front of Tug Ghyll until almost ten, by which point she’s sure Vanessa will be exhausted, and so she reluctantly finishes her shift then heads to bed.

But sleep is hard to come by yet again.

She thinks about Vanessa’s smile, about the way she’s kind to her children. About how she listens to Charity and has actual conversations with her.

Vanessa’s a proper adult, not like the mess of alleged grown ups in Charity’s family. And all that stuff that Charity used to think was boring: fixed dinner times and stable jobs and calling when someone says they will, suddenly seem incredibly appealing.

She’s got it bad. How could she have been so stupid and miss that she’s bloody thinking about Vanessa all the time? 

_Because you’ve never really had a friend before_, a nasty little voice in her tells her. _ You have no idea what you’re doing. _

That much is certainly true. 

*** 

_This is ridiculous_ she thinks to herself the next day as she strides across the road to the vet practice. 

“What do _you_ want?” Pearl sneers, looking up from the trashy magazine she’s reading.

Charity opens her mouth to tell her exactly where she can shove that attitude, when the door to the back opens and Rhona sticks her head out.

“Charity?” she asks, frowning a little. “Can I help you?”

Charity grabs the box she’s holding tighter. This is mortifying. “I’m looking for Vanessa.”

Something passes over a Rhona’s face, before she shakes her head. “I’m sorry, she’s out vaccinating sheep all afternoon.”

“Oh.” It’s ridiculous but she’s crushed. She’s got herself through the morning by telling herself she’d get to see Vanessa at lunch time, but now she’s not even here.

“Is that for her?” Rhona asks, looking at the box.

“No!” Charity says defensively, before her shoulders drop. “Yes. It’s just a sandwich.”

The look is back on Rhona’s face, and then something determined flashes in her eyes.

“Look, can I talk to you for a minute?” She glances at Pearl. “In private?”

Pearly huffs, clearly offended.

“Ok?” Charity follows Rhona through the door to Rhona’s living room and watches with some amusement as she firmly shuts the door, then beckons her to the kitchen. Far away from Pearl’s ears.

“What do you want?” Charity crosses her arms; she has a feeling she isn’t going to like this.

Rhona takes a deep breath. “I want to know what you’re doing. With Vanessa.”

Charity’s hackles rise immediately. “What do you mean?”

“Stop playing dumb, Charity.” Rhona rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. “This whole fake dating thing. I know she’s round at yours all the time and when she’s not there, you’re at hers!”

“We’re friends!” And maybe, maybe something more. 

“Vanessa got Star Baker yesterday.” Rhona purses her lip. “But you already know that, because instead of calling Tracy or me she called you.”

“So this is about you being jealous because you didn’t get to be on TV?” Charity feels herself raising her voice.

“No, this is about you not messing her about!” Rhona matches her tone, and to her credit doesn’t back down. “What are you doing with her, Charity?”

“We’re friends,” she repeats, but it sounds like a lie even to her own ears.

“To you, maybe.” Rhona deflates a little. “Look, I have nothing against you. Honestly, I think you’ve been really good for her. But I’m worried about Vanessa. I think…” She hesitates. “I’m worried she’s falling for you. Properly. And you’re confusing her with mixed signals. Like bringing her sandwiches.”

Charity stares at her. “What do you-“

“Vanessa is kind and loyal and when she falls for someone, she falls hard.” Rhona gives her a look. “I don’t want you breaking her heart.”

“That’s ridiculous!” But Charity’s heart is thumping unpleasantly.

“Is it?” Rhona shakes her head. “All she’s been talking about lately is you. And it’s making her close herself off to other opportunities.” She sighs again. “One of the producers asked her out the other day and she said no!”

Charity’s head spins. Vanessa never mentioned that. She feels sick both with a sudden hot jealousy and a panic that this is all too much, too soon.

“I’m sorry if I’m way off base here, but I’m not going to let her get hurt.”

“Bit rich coming from you,” Charity manages to choke out. She feels like the world has started spinning at double speed around her.

“I know I’ve hurt her in the past, and I regret that more than you’ll ever know.” Rhona takes a step towards her. “Which is why I’m asking you, for her sake, if you care about her at all, which I do genuinely believe you do, don’t lead her on. If you don’t feel the same way, if you’re not ready to commit to her properly and give her what she needs, what she deserves, then step back and let someone else do it.”

Charity wants to shout at her. Tell her she’s wrong. But she can’t seem to get the words out.

“Its taken Vanessa so long to be comfortable with who she is. And she’s been alone for so long, she deserves to be happy. With someone who can love her properly. And if that someone isn’t you, you need to let her find someone else.”

She’s right. 

Charity feels sick and furious, but also guilty, because Rhona is right. Hell, she herself knew this weeks ago, at that stupid party. 

She puts the sandwich on the table. “I’m going to go.”

“Look, Charity, I wasn’t trying to upset you-“

“I’m not upset,” she lies, avoiding Rhona’s disbelieving face. “I have to go back to work.”

Who was she kidding? She’s not good enough for someone like Vanessa. She has no idea how to be in a proper relationship. Vanessa will want things like weekends away in the Lake District and nights in watching Strictly and schedules for the school run. 

Charity doesn’t know how to do any of that. She can almost convince herself that she doesn’t want any of it either.

Vanessa deserves better than Charity, the ex con, didn’t-even-finish-high-school ex prostitute. God, Vanessa doesn’t even know _half_ the stuff that make Charity entirely unsuitable for her.

It’s like Rhona’s thrown a bucket of water over her and woken her up from a trance. Who was she kidding? This would _never_ have worked. 

It’s time to end this. Once and for all.

*** 

She’s just zipping up her dress that night when a voice calls through the door to her bedroom.

“Charity?”

She feels like she’s been jolted by electricity simply hearing her voice. God, this has to stop.

“I’m getting changes,” she calls out.

Vanessa hesitates, then her voice sounds from directly outside the door. “Chas let me up. I thought I’d come over because…well, you haven’t answered any of my messages.”

Charity digs her thumbnail hard into her palm.

“I’m really sorry,” Vanessa says softly. “About running off like that. And then just calling you from TV with no warning. They just said, ring the person you most want to tell and it was you.”

Charity swallows hard against the lump that’s forming in her throat.

“And about what happened…I just panicked.” Vanessa sounds nervous. “I just…I’ve had these feelings for you for so long and I didn’t think there was a chance you might ever feel the same and when you kissed me I just…I didn’t know what to do.” There’s a pause. “It was a really good kiss.” She says it so softly the door almost swallows it up.

Charity takes a deep breath. She wants desperately to open the door, to pull Vanessa inside and take her to bed, but where will that lead them?

Vanessa wants something Charity can’t give her. Can’t give anyone. She’s not built for love, not the way Vanessa is.

“Can you please open the door?” Vanessa calls out, sounding frustrated, and Charity takes a deep breath and tugs on the handle.

Vanessa’s jaw drops open. “Wow.”

Charity smoothes her right black dress with the palms of her hand. 

“Are you going out?” Vanessa’s voice is hesitant, like the truth is starting to dawn on her. 

_Don’t!_ a voice inside of her shouts. _Don’t do it. Don’t break the best thing you have in your life. _

But what’s the point in trying? She’s just going to fuck it up later anyway, and it’ll hurt them both a hell of a lot more then than now.

“I have a date,” she manages in an almost steady voice, and Vanessa’s face falls so dramatically that if it didn’t make Charity feel like she was going to vomit it might be comical.

“Oh.” Vanessa nods to herself, like things have become clear to her. “Right. Ok. I’m sorry for interrupting. Have fun.”

She turns on her heels and goes, eyes glistening like she might cry.

Charity lets her. She sinks onto the top step and buried her head in her hands. 

It’s for the best. She knows that and Rhona knows that and soon enough Vanessa will know it too. She’s better off without Charity.


	10. Part X: Delicately Spiced

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things heat up a notch in semi final week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reading all your comments last week I felt so bad about the timing of the angst! But hopefully this might help a bit - we’re getting there! Also thanks for keeping me motivated to finish this and not dive off and start writing missing scenes for last week like I really wanted to 😊

**Part X: Delicately Spiced **

_Semi Final_

It’s one of the worst dates Charity’s ever been on, and the sad thing is that it’s absolutely not the guy’s fault.

He seems nice enough, a bit over-confident once he starts drinking but he’s quite funny actually and he holds the door and draws out her chair and orders them an expensive bottle of wine, all the stuff Charity used to think was important.

But she’s utterly miserable. She can’t get Vanessa’s face out of her head. Or the way she sounded, breathless and hopeful, when she told Charity that she liked her. 

Charity wishes desperately that she’d been able to see Vanessa’s face when she said that, and at the same time is endlessly grateful that she hadn’t because she would have lost all her resolve.

_Look at you,_ she thinks. _You can’t even get a date with this boring guy right. How would you ever date someone like Vanessa?_

She tries her best but in the end, half way through the main course, she feigns food poisoning and makes her escape.

She wonders what Vanessa would be like on a date. Where she likes to go. If Charity had to pick somewhere, she’d probably say a small, intimate Italian. Quiet music, low lighting. Romantic but not flashy.

It’s not the kind of thing Charity normally chooses but she craves it now, in her taxi home. 

She needs to put these ideas out of her head. It’s over. It’s done with.

The end.

*** 

Sometimes she forgets, that they’re not speaking. There are moments, when she’s tired or distracted, where she reaches for her phone and begins typing a message before reality punches her in the face.

Vanessa doesn’t seem to have told anyone what’s happened, because Tracy is still sending Charity pictures of outfits she thinks Charity should wear to the final next week, and she knows Noah is still popping round there to get cake.

She knows she needs to tell him to stop. But the idea of disappointing him again, of ripping another figure out of his life, is too painful. 

She’ll leave it a few days. Maybe Vanessa will go out this weekend and the whole thing will resolve itself? But even thinking it makes her feel ill with disloyalty. Vanessa deserves to go through. 

On Tuesday night, Charity’s not working and pretends to go to bed early. She curls up under the covers with a bottle of whisky and her laptop and watches Vanessa, in a floral blouse and tight jeans, whisking her meringue to stiff peaks.

_That’s an interesting choice, to add lime to your lemon meringue pie,_ Paul says.

Vanessa beams. _ “Well, Noah, my girlfriend’s son, said it was delicious, and I trust his judgement so let’s hope for the best!_

On screen, a little illustration of the pie appears, and in that curly, Bakeoff font, the words _ ‘Noah’s Lemon and Lime Meringue Pie’_ appear.

Charity feels her face crumble. Tears splash onto her keyboard but she doesn’t care. 

Why does it have to hurt so much, doing the right thing?

*** 

“Alright,” Chas sighs, waddling over to where Charity is lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling. “Budge up.”

Charity sighs. “Can’t you just let me lie here in peace?”

“I’m seven months pregnant, Charity, and my ankles are the size of baked bean cans, so for gods sake budge up.”

Huffing, Charity hauls herself into a sitting position and winces as Chas lets herself drop onto the sofa.

Chas’s stomach is absolutely enormous. Initially, she hadn’t shown much at all but in the last month or so she’s just popped. Charity pushes herself into the side to give Chas a little more room.

“Right,” Chas says, nodding to herself. “You’ve moped long enough. What is going on with you?”

“Nothing.” Charity manages to keep most of the bite out of her voice because it’s not Chas’s fault. 

“Hmm.” Chas turns her upper body towards her, groaning a little under the effort. “So it’s nothing to do with the fact that I haven’t seen Vanessa round here since last week, or that you haven’t been to see her either?”

“What does Vanessa have to do with anything?”

Chas gives her a look. “Sorry, I must have gotten confused with the mooning over each other in the bar and the feeding each other cake-“

“That was one time, and it was because I said I was full and she wanted me to try that third version!” Charity interjects, outraged.

“So you don’t have feelings for her?”

Charity draws her eyebrows together and looks down. She’s trying _so hard_ to let Vanessa go. Why can’t the world let her?

“It doesn’t matter,” she replies softly.

Chas makes a sound of pure frustration. “Charity! That woman is clearly head over heels for you. If you like her too, why aren’t you going for it?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Charity stands up. She can’t be here anymore; she feels dangerously close to tears.

“If you’re going to let her down, do it gently, ok?” Chas calls after her. “You could at least help her with that film crew that’s over at hers.”

Charity freezes. She forgot about the filming. The filming she agreed to have at her pub.

She hesitates for a moment, then turns back from the pub and hurries to the front door.

“Where are you going?” Chas calls after her, but Charity doesn’t stop to reply.

*** 

There’s large grey van parked on the main road, but the crew are nowhere to be seen. Charity hesitates, trying to decide whether to knock on Vanessa’s door or not. In her mind this had been easy: they’d be filming on the street and she’d just invite them in.

But actually having to find them, rather than ‘stumbling’ upon them, is different. Deliberate. 

She dithers, and then spots a woman she recognises coming towards her. It’s Alice, the producer.

“Oi!” Charity’s feet move before she even makes a conscious decision to do so. 

Alice looks up. “Ah! Charlotte, is it?”

“Charity.” She manages to conjure up a semi-smile, hoping it’s not as much of a grimace as she thinks it is. “Look, I’m not sure where Vanessa is but I think you’re supposed to be filming in my pub, across the road?”

Alice looks around her, her body language turning awkward. “Ah, well,” she says, lowering her voice. “Vanessa mentioned. That you and her taking a break. But don’t worry, we won’t mention it on the show.” She gives a bright, fake looking smile. “We’re a strictly good news program.”

Charity feels like someone’s kicked her in the gut. A _break_?

“Vanessa said that?” 

Because it’s one thing, what happened between them. But the fact that Vanessa apparently hasn’t told anyone what’s happened made her think that they were keeping this just between them. That maybe, maybe there might be a chance for them to at least be friends down the line.

But apparently not. Apparently Vanessa is telling TV crews now that it’s over.

Charity knows it’s not fair, that she’s brought this all on herself. Rationally, she knows that. But the anger, the hurt in her isn’t rationale. It’s something big, so big she can hardly keep it inside herself. She feels like a bucket of adrenaline has been injected into her. 

She needs a fight, somewhere to let this blow off.

“Anyway, we’re done filming. Vanessa’s become a real natural on screen, and sister came across very well too.”

As if summoned by Alice’s words, Vanessa suddenly appears at the door to the shop, dolled up with lipstick and tight jeans and curls in her hair, and Charity actually feels her breath catch.

The conflicting emotions in her twist like some sort of serpent in her stomach and she barely even registers Alice saying goodbye and leaving as Vanessa catches sight of her, hesitates, and the moves slowly up the road towards her.

“Hey,” Vanessa says softly when she’s close enough. 

Charity’s too far gone to match her gentle tone. “I hear we’re taking a break?” she snaps.

Vanessa’s eyes widen. “Oh, well, I mean, I didn’t think you’d want to-“

“Oh, right, so you just get to make that decision do you?” Charity throws her arms wide apart. “I thought we agreed you would film the segment at the pub?”

Something hard flashes across Vanessa’s face. “Of course,” she replies, and the uncharacteristically bitter tone makes Charity pause for a second. “This about the pub and getting you on TV, like it always is.”

She pushes past Charity, who feels her jaw drop open. 

“What is _that_ supposed to mean?”

Vanessa lets out a scoff. “This whole thing between us was always just about you wanting to get the pub on TV. And I was so stupid I actually thought you might-“ She stops herself and speeds up.

Charity storms after her. Her whole body is tingling, like she’s just been jolted by a live wire. “You think I pretended to like you to get on TV?”

Vanessa whirls around as they reach her front door step. Her jaw is quivering and her eyes are so blue Charity can’t stop staring at them.

“What else am I supposed to think?” She unlocks her door with vigour and bangs it open. “How was your date?”

“Terrible, if you must know,” Charity blurts out, and she finds herself matching Vanessa’s tone. 

She feels sick. The idea of Vanessa thinking that she used her, even if that was true at the start of this, feels like a piece of glass in her heart. 

“It wasn’t about the pub or TV,” she tries, following Vanessa to the living room. “Not after the first couple of weeks.”

“Tell me something.” Vanessa’s voice sounds thick, like she’s trying not to cry. “Did you know? That I had feelings for you? When you kissed me? Did you do it because you were playing games with me?”

“No!”

“I’ve been turning this over and over in my head,” Vanessa chokes out. “Why you would do that. Kiss me. Because there were times where I thought that you might…” She shakes her head. “But then you had that date and-“

“Vanessa.” Charity needs to stop her talking. Her heart is racing so fast her whole body is trembling. She can’t hear this. She doesn’t know how to put the darkness in herself into words. How to explain to Vanessa that she sucks the goodness out of everyone she touches like blotting paper, leaving them stained and leeched behind her.

“Why are you here?” Vanessa steps closer to her, and Charity can see the firm eyeliner and the lipstick and the slightly thicker layer of makeup than Vanessa normally bothers with and she can’t help it; her eyes drop to Vanessa’s mouth as she remembers what it was like to hold her, to kiss her…

“You send a lot of mixed messages,” Vanessa breathes out, stepping even closer. There’s only a few centimetres between them now and still Charity can’t move.

“Do you really like me?” She could curse herself as soon as it leaves her mouth, but at the same time she feels like she needs the answer more than she needs to breathe.

“Of course I do.” Vanessa slowly, slowly lifts her hand to Charity’s face, and she sees that it’s shaking a bit. Vanessa’s just as nervous as she is. 

An involuntary gasp escapes her mouth when the hand lands on her cheek, soft and warm, and her resolve crumbles to dust.

“Tell me you don’t want this,” Vanessa whispers. “Tell me this is all in my head.”

She’s so close now that Charity can see every little detail of her face. The blueness of her eyes, the tiniest smudge in her lipstick. 

_I can’t_, she wants to say. _Please tell me to go because I can’t do it on my own_. 

But Vanessa slides the hand on her cheek around to the back of Charity’s head, and slowly, slowly, giving her half an age to pull away, leans up for the softest, most tender brush of their lips.

Another helpless gasp escapes her then, and she feels Vanessa tremble against her in response.

Charity’s got a lot of willpower. She’s needed it, to survive as long as she has in the places she’s been. 

But she’s not a fucking Saint.

The second Vanessa moves to pull back for the kiss, Charity’s hands shoot out and tug her closer gently. 

And then she realises that Vanessa’s wearing short sleeves, that she’s touching those arms that she’s been bloody dreaming about for weeks, and they’re as firm and the skin is as soft as she pictured it and that’s all it takes, somehow, for their soft, sweet kiss to become open mouthed and hot and without end.

*** 

Vanessa holds her hand all the way to her bedroom, like she’s worried Charity might bolt if she lets go.

Charity’s only ever been upstairs to go to the loo while Vanessa has lived here, and when they enter her space Charity can’t stop herself from nosying a bit.

Like the rest of the house, it’s small and full but neat. Everything is folded, stacked. There’s pictures everywhere.

She turns to Vanessa who’s smiling hesitantly at her.

“I’m nervous,” she blurts out, before going that adorable shade of pink that she always goes whenever Charity makes any sort of vaguely suggestive joke. “Sorry, that’s not very sexy.”

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about there,” Charity tells her, trailing her fingers over Vanessa’s biceps again. 

The doubts in her mind are still there. That this is a terrible idea. But somehow, the thought of Vanessa thinking she doesn’t want her is even worse.

And there’s something about Vanessa’s nervousness now that jolts something inside of her. The desire to take the lead, to make Vanessa feel good. It’s a turn on, to feel this wanted by someone she knows. Who she respects, who she actually _likes_. It’s almost addictive, that feeling.

“We don’t have to do anything. We can stop any time.” She steps closer to Vanessa so their bodies press together. “We can just keep snogging if you want.”

“What I want,” Vanessa breathes out, a shaky, aroused sound that makes heat pool in Charity’s stomach, “is _definitely_ more than snogging.”

Charity feels a grin tug at the corners of her mouth. This, she knows. She’s good at this, always has been. 

“Come here,” she whispers, and tugs Vanessa in. She comes willingly, lets Charity take the lead but still gives as good as she gets as they tumble onto the neatly made sheets and start tugging at each other’s clothes.

***   
Charity loses all concept of time as the slide against each other. 

It’s not like any sex she’s had before, somehow. It’s _fun_, in a way she imagines it must be because they’re friends, first. Vanessa gets a fit of giggles when she can’t undo Charity’s bra clasp, and when Charity struggles to to pull off Vanessa’s super tight skinny jeans, it sets her off as well. 

But the laughter doesn’t extinguish the heat between them; somehow it only seems to fan the flames. Vanessa’s eager, and her enthusiasm more than makes up for her inexperience.

And she checks in with Charity constantly: eye contact and hand squeezes and a quick _is this ok_ and after their first round, Vanessa probably knows more about what works for her than a couple of her ex husbands did after their whole marriage.

And touching Vanessa… 

Charity can’t get enough of her. She’s clearly initially embarrassed: when Charity first slides her fingers between her legs and Vanessa lets out a loud moan, she blushes and tries to hide her face. But Charity won’t have it.

“I want to see you feel good,” she tells her, kissing her softly, and Vanessa relaxes a little, letting her eyes flutter shut and falling into the feeling.

Afterwards, Vanessa doesn’t hesitate; she pulls Charity’s head to rest on her chest and wraps her arms around her.

The trembling, post-coital haze is fading slowly, and Charity feels her nerves make a reappearance. This is the bit she’s no good at. The talking.

“Can’t believe you didn’t know you were gay,” she jokes, trying to hold onto the light atmosphere. 

“Me neither.” Vanessa huffs our a laugh. “God, I didn’t even know my body could do that.”

Smug, Charity presses a kiss to Vanessa’s chest and smirks when she shivers in response.

But it doesn’t last.

“Why did you go on that date?” Vanessa asks softly. She runs her fingers softly through Charity’s hair, as if to reassure her that the question isn’t an attack.

“Why did you run away after I kissed you?” Charity fires back, knowing that she’s being too defensive but unable to stop herself.

“I panicked.” Vanessa shifts a little and Charity can’t help but look up at her. “I’ve been…pretty much ever since we went to that launch party I’ve been thinking about you all the time, and I’d been scared to talk to you about it because we’ve become such good friends and I was worried about screwing it up.”

Charity doesn’t know what to say. Her heart is racing again, and really, all of this emotion stuff can’t be good for it, can it?

“Those dates I’d been on?” Vanessa looks down, embarrassed. “I kissed two of those women. But it wasn’t anything like…”

It’s wrong, but there’s a part of Charity that’s delighted at that admission.

“I’m really sorry for running out on you. I just needed a minute to think but I should have spoken to you.”

“It’s ok.” That’s all the words Charity can manage.

“I think you’re amazing.” Vanessa looks her dead in the eye, and Charity can’t breathe, can’t move. “And I’m not just saying that because we just had the most amazing sex.” She huffs out a little laugh. 

“Vanessa.” Charity sits up. She needs to put space between them, before she gives in to this fantasy.

“I know.” Vanessa swallows hard. “You’re going to tell me this can’t happen, aren’t you?”

Charity’s mouth drops open a little.

“You’ve got that face on, that you always do when you’re about to give me negative feedback on my baking.”

“It’s not you.” Charity pulls her legs to her chest. “I just…I _can’t _.”

“But _why?_” Vanessa reaches out and squeezes her hand. “Because after what we just did…it’s not just me, is it? You feel it too?”

“Of course I do!” Charity cries out. Her inability to explain herself has never been more frustrating. “But Vanessa, you must know…I mean, I’m not…” She winds one of her hands into her hair, tugging at it desperately. “I’m not _good_ at this.”

“Yes you are.” Vanessa doesn’t even hesitate.

Charity doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “You don’t know half of the stuff I’ve done. What I’ve been. You wouldn’t want this if you-“

“-yes I would.” Vanessa sounds firm, and she shuffles close, gently raising Charity’s chin with her finger. “I think you’re incredible. Strong. Stubborn. No, I don’t know everything about you, but if you’ll let me I want to learn.”

“You don’t.”

“I _do_.” Vanessa’s finger gently strokes her jaw. “And I want you to learn about me. I like you so much, Charity Dingle. So there. Deal with that.” 

Charity lets out a noise halfway between a sob and a laugh. She wants so desperately to believe that they can do this, that _she_ can do this.

But then she remembers Vanessa’s pained face when Charity told her about her date. Her grubby finger marks are already staining Vanessa’s pristine life.

“Don’t,” Vanessa says, when Charity opens her mouth. “Don’t say anything now.” She leans in, and kisses Charity softly, and because Charity is weak, she kisses her back. “Don’t decide now, ok? Just think about it.” She swallows hard. “I’ll give you some space, I promise.” She kisses her again, and there’s a hint of desperation in it that makes Charity clench her fist around the sheets. “After today, I’ll let you think about it. But don’t say no now.”

Charity should put an end to this. It’s not right, when she knows what her answer will be.

But instead she finds herself nodding, and then they’re falling back into the warm cave of sheets, and she lets herself pretend, that this might work. That she’s not broken beyond repair.  
That she can make something real stick. 

***


	11. Part XI: The Final Bake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Star Trek Voice* And now the conclusion...
> 
> In which Vanessa does some final bakes and Charity confronts her fears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it!! Can you guys believe that I wrote a 35K word GBBO AU? 
> 
> Thank you all for your comments throughout, and for encouraging me to just go with this madness. Your response to this story has been the absolute best and this fandom is really just great all round :) I hope you all enjoy this ending and thanks for indulging another one of my mad AU ideas. Let’s be real, it’s unlikely to be the last. :)

**Part XI: The Final Bake**

_Final_

It’s hard to zero in on how she actually feels, when she stumbles out of Vanessa’s house later that day, having just spent at least five minutes pushed up against the front door with a dressing gown clad Vanessa kissing her so thoroughly that her legs feel shaky.

And she aches all over; that pleasant, contented ache that only comes from long and deeply satisfying sex.

Charity’s head is all over the place. One part of her is wildly, ridiculously happy. The things Vanessa did to her, _said_ to her… She bites her lip when she plays back the afternoon in her head.

_It could always be like that_, a voice whispers in her head.

But at the same time, nothing has really changed. Charity is still damaged goods. And Vanessa might have said that she didn’t care, that she didn’t agree, even, but she doesn’t really know. Charity’s pretty sure Megan would have told her about some of it, in likely highly unflattering terms, but there’s still worse that no one knows. That Charity’s never told anyone. Things that would probably make Vanessa run for the hills.

_But maybe not. Maybe she’d want to be there for you?_

She shakes her head firmly to clear the fog and stalks across the road to her home, unlocking the door and slipping inside.

“Was starting to think I should send out a search party,” Chas’s voice calls, but before Charity can disappear up the stairs, she’s come through to the hall and is raising an eyebrow at her. “Good afternoon, then?”

“What? Why?” Charity pats at her hair; she used Vanessa’s brush to make it look less like she’d been had six ways from Sunday and thought all traces of sex had been neatened away.

“Just that your shirt is buttoned up wrong,” Chas smirks, before turning towards the bar. “Your shift starts in ten minutes.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Charity looks down at herself and sighs, because she really has buttoned herself up wrong. She reaches for her phone to send Vanessa a message about it and then hesitates.

Because she’s got no clue how they left it. Vanessa had said she’d give Charity time to think, would respect her wishes. But then they’d spent the next two hours wrapped up in each other, and she’s not sure if that means she’s supposed to text her or not.

The goodbye kiss suggests one thing, Charity’s common sense another. She knows she’s not doing herself any favours, drawing it out like this.

But no matter how hard she tries, she can’t bring herself to call what they did a mistake. Not when she remembers the way Vanessa glowed as she flopped down onto the pillows, flushed and satisfied and beaming at her. How she’d linked their fingers together and touched her forehead to Charity’s as they got their breath back.

How she’d felt happy, purely and simply, for the first time in so long. Felt that constant ache inside of herself shut up for a few hours and let her experience actual, real joy.

God help her, it’s not something she wants to lose.

*** 

It’s not strictly in line with her rules for herself, but Charity does send Vanessa a good luck message on Saturday morning, and smiles at the string of emojis she gets in response. Baker, cake, camera. Heart.

She puts the phone down and tries not to let it cheer her up but she can’t help it . Vanessa said she was going to give her space, but then in her defence she was just responding to Charity’s message.

And although it’s exactly the opposite of what Charity tells herself she wants, it lifts her mood all afternoon as she potters around the bar.

That night, when she comes through for her dinner, Noah is leaning against the fridge, grinning at his phone.

“Texting Leanna?” Charity teases and watches a blush taint his cheeks.

“No!” He scowls at her. “Vanessa.”

“Oh.” She tries to sound casual but must fail epically because Noah’s face morphs from mortified to smug in seconds.

“Want to know what she’s saying?”

Charity shrugs, turning away to fill the kettle.

He doesn’t carry on though, looking back down and laughing again, and Charity rolls her eyes, turning around.

“Well, what’s is it then?” she snaps.

He grins at her like he’s just won something. “She was making salted caramel and Paul said that it had just the right amount of salt in it for him.”

“Right…” Charity frowns; she’s not sure what joke she’s not getting here.

“She forgot to add any salt!” Noah laughs. 

A snort escapes her. “What’s she like?” She can just imagine Vanessa’s face, trying to keep it straight in front of the cameras. She’s so bad at not laughing when she gets a giggle. 

Charity wishes she could have been there to see it, then gives herself a mental slap on the wrist. She’s supposed to be letting go of thoughts like that.

But instead, the more she tries not to think about Vanessa, the more she seems to creep into her mind.

*** 

“Can you go through to the back room for a minute?” Chas asks her on Sunday night.

Charity tilts her head back and groans. “Chas, I am _not_ popping Paddy’s spine again. That’s the third time this weekend, he needs to go see someone about that. I’m not his chiropractor!”

Chas has a weird smirk on her face. “It’s not about Paddy.”

“Then what?” Charity moans, but still turns around. At least it’s a break. 

She shouldn’t complain, not really. They don’t want to jinx it but the pub’s been really steadily busy over the last few weeks, even tonight. 

Several people have come in asking if this is the pub from TV. Looks like her brilliant plan might have worked after all.

She drags herself to the living room and then stops short when she sees Vanessa standing there, wearing her little brown handbag across her body and all the way round the front, like she’s worried someone’s going to mug her. It’s so daft and utterly her that Charity _aches_ to kiss her.

“Hi.” Vanessa smiles nervously and Charity wipes her suddenly sweaty palms on her jeans.

“Hey.” 

“Ok, right,” Vanessa starts, and her face gets a very determined look on her face that is stupidly attractive. “Don’t say anything for a minute.”

“I’m not even talking!” Charity exclaims but Vanessa instantly holds up a finger to silence her.

“I know I said I’d give you space, and I promise I actually will now, but there’s some things I need to say to you.”

She pauses and Charity tilts her head. “Sorry, am I allowed to actually answer that?” She means to sound joking but her voice comes out raspy and she clears her throat quickly. It doesn’t help; the lump sticks stubbornly.

“You keep saying things like you’re not good enough and that you’re not good at this.” Vanessa shakes her head. “But today I got Star Baker again and it’s because of you. I’m in the final, because of you.”

Charity starts shaking her head but Vanessa steps closer and nods.

“Yes. Every time I got anxious or started panicking I thought about you and something you’d said to make me laugh or something I wanted to tell you later. I have whole conversations with you in my head and they make me feel so much better.”

“Babe,” Charity starts but Vanessa places a finger over her mouth and Charity instantly shuts up.

“This last year…these last few years, I’ve been in a slump. I’ve not been going anywhere. I’ve been going through the motions. I’ve been scared to be who I am. And you woke me up.” Vanessa smiles at her again and her eyes have started shimmering suspiciously. “I don’t need a perfect girlfriend. I don’t want you to be different. I just want you. Amazing, wonderful you.”

“You think I’m amazing?” Charity feels like she can hardly breathe, her heart is racing so fast it’s like her lungs can’t get a look in to take in any air. _Girlfriend_.

“Totally.” Vanessa looks her right in the eye. “You are good enough for me. And I’m good enough for you. We’re good for each other.”

Charity lets out a little helpless sigh. She’s so close to letting herself fall into the comfort of Vanessa, but it’s all too much, too fast.

Vanessa sighs a little and reaches down into her bag. “I’ve got tickets. For all of you for next Sunday. To the final.”

“Vanessa,” she starts, and she’s not sure whether she wants to grab them from her hand or push them back towards Vanessa. 

“Please take them.” Vanessa’s voice is thick with emotion. “I know you need to think and I don’t want to pressure you. But even if we’re just friends, I want you there.” 

Hands shaking, Charity reaches out and takes the tickets off her. Their fingers brush and she feels the small touch all the way through her body. 

“Right,” Vanessa says with false cheer. “I’d better go.”

She turns and Charity’s hand snaps out without conscious thought and catches her wrist. 

Vanessa turns and Charity leans down and kisses her softly, just for a minute. “I’m really glad you made it through,” Charity whispers. “I knew you would.”

“I seem to remember you telling me I’d go out in week three?” Vanessa jokes, tilting her head. It makes Charity’s chest ache, how much their kiss has made her smile.

“I do care about you,” she manages to get out. “It’s not that I don’t-“

“I know.” Vanessa leans in softly and kisses her again. “I know it’s scary. I’m scared too.”

“Ness-“

“But don’t you think maybe it’s worth the risk?” 

_You don’t know what you’re letting yourself in for_, Charity wants to shout, but Vanessa steps back.

“I need to go see Johnny,” Vanessa tells her apologetically. “And I’ll stop harassing you. But when you’ve made your decision, come find me, yeah?”

She gives Charity a small smile and leaves, and Charity lets her trembling legs sink onto the sofa. 

*** 

Charity’s not usually the indecisive type. She makes impulsive decisions all the time, and yeah, often they might not turn out so great, but she’s not used to dithering.

If she’s honest with herself, she knows it’s because what is probably right and what she wants are at odds.

She’s never, ever wanted someone like Vanessa before. Been wanted by someone like her. Everything about her is different. There’s the attraction, which their afternoon together last week has stoked into a fire that Charity can’t seem to put out. But there’s also all the other stuff. Like the way thinking about Vanessa makes her smile and her mood lift and everything seem brighter.

Vanessa doesn’t come into the pub that week and it’s both a relief and a horrible disappointment. 

Noah informs her that Vanessa’s in a baking frenzy, practicing for the weekend. Which probably explains why she hasn’t texted. Well, that and that she said she was going to give Charity some time to think.

But thinking time has never done her any favours in the past. She’s not good left alone with her own thoughts. 

She knows she’s being a nightmare, snapping at everything and everyone, but it’s like there’s a heavy ball of led in her stomach and it weighs down every step she takes.

She’s exhausted. All these stupid emotions make her feel like she’s run a marathon. She _aches_ to go over to Tug Ghyll. To give in.

On Friday, she allows herself to cheat a little, and clears the beer garden very, very slowly until she sees Vanessa leaving the cottage and heading to her car, with Tracy and Johnny waving from the door.

Their eyes meet and Charity gives a small smile and a wave, mouthing “Good luck.”

Vanessa waves back and Charity can tell that she’s stressed, nervous. But when she sees Charity she smiles widely and it’s so unfair, how disarming a smile can be. 

She looks after the car like she’s a World War Two wife waving off a train, which is why she doesn’t notice that Tracy has stormed across the road until she turns back and jumps at how close she suddenly is.

“Jesus chri-“ She presses a hand to her chest. “Wear a bell!”

“Charity!” Johnny squeals, and Charity ruffles his hair.

“Mr Woodfield! How are we today?”

Tracy interrupts. “We’d be a lot better if you could explain why my sister thinks that you’re not coming on Sunday?”

Charity sighs. “Tracy-“

“My sister, the Great British Bakeoff finalist who let you fake date her to save your pub and who you are clearly head over heels for!”

“It’s not that simple-“

“_Fake dated?_” a voice behind her says, and Charity squeezes her eyes shut and clenches her fists. “What does she mean, mum?”

“Let’s go through the back, yeah?” Charity turns to face Debbie, who looks distinctly unimpressed. “I can explain.”

***   
“Are you telling me,” Debbie hisses at her the minute she ushers her inside, away from a prying Tracy, “that you and Vanessa aren’t actually together?”

“It’s complicated-“

“That you’ve been _lying_ to me and to Sarah, letting her get attached to Vanessa when it’s all a big scam?”

“It’s not like that!” Charity feels like she might be sick.

“Why would you do that? Pretend like that?” Debbie sounds exhausted. Like she’s so tired of Charity’s bullshit.

She’s not the only one. Charity opens her mouth to try and explain, but instead, her breath catches and her lip trembles and she tries to press her hand to her mouth to keep it in, but the sob escapes her anyway and then the tears are falling and Debbie’s staring at her like she’s never seen her before.

*** 

It’s one of the most honest conversations her and Debbie have ever had. In some ways, Charity is grateful, because Debbie’s stopped looking at her with anger, but the pity is almost worse.

“It started off as an arrangement,” Charity had choked out between sobs. “But I…we…”

And Debbie had sighed and given her a stiff hug, and then they’d sunk onto the sofa while Charity cried herself out.

“I don’t get it,” Debbie says when Charity’s sobs have slowed to the occasional hiccup. “If you both like each other, why aren’t you together?”

Charity gives her a look. “You know better than anyone why I should stay away from her.”

Debbie looks at her blankly. 

“I’m a mess!” Charity spreads her arms and gestures at her face, which judging by her fingers when she wipes at her cheeks is covered in mascara. “My life is a mess. And Vanessa… she’s too good for me.”

She hangs her head and waits, trying to prepare herself for hearing her daughter agree. She knows she’s been a terrible mother, that she deserves the way her children feel about her, but their brutally honest judgement still cuts her to the bone every time.

“That’s really stupid, Mum.” Out of the corner of her eye Charity can see her shaking her head. “Because from where I’m sitting, you’re perfect for each other.”

“What?” She lifts her head slightly.

“When you guys showed up at the hospital, you were so…” She shakes her head. “I don’t know. You let her comfort you. And I just thought, Mum’s grown up.”

Charity doesn’t think she can speak. She’s never, _never_ heard her daughter speak about her this way.

“And she’s clearly mad about you.” Debbie rolls her eyes in that typical way of hers. “When you took a few minutes longer than normal in the loo in the hospital she was desperate to go check on you. And then when she saw you come back it was like she’d seen the sun come in.”

Charity shakes her head. She knows Vanessa likes her, because Vanessa has told her so and she’s not a liar, not about stuff like this. But Charity’s never had this kind of relationship, where you take care of each other like this.

“That’s not-“ she starts, but then the door slams open and Noah stalks in.

“What time are we leaving on Sunday?” he asks, and he’s scowling. “To go the the final? Because I just spoke to Tracy and she said we aren’t going!”

“Noah,” Debbie says gently. “We’re kind of in the middle of something.”

He looks at Charity and then his face softens into concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Charity manages weakly, feeling like she might start balling any second.

Noah drops down onto one of the chairs. “Is this because you don’t think you’re good enough to be Vanessa’s girlfriend?”

“Tracy needs to learn to keep her mouth shut.” Charity sighs. “Look, I know you like Vanessa a lot-“

“I know _you_ like her a lot!” he responds, the tips of his ears turning pink. “And not thinking you’re good enough is stupid.” He shakes his head. “Things have been so much better here since she’s been around.”

Debbie nods. “Look, no one is saying you haven’t made mistakes in the past. But that doesn’t mean you’re not good enough for her.”

Noah nods, clearly embarrassed by the conversation. “Vanessa makes really lame jokes and she’s a massive nerd, but that doesn’t mean she’s not good enough for you!”

Debbie nods again. “So why should you being crazy and impulsive mean that you’re not good enough for her?” Her tone is light, like she’s joking, and something in Charity’s chest feels like it’s loosening.

“You guys really think that I could…that we could…”

Noah sits up and pulls something out of his back pocket. It’s a piece of paper, folder and then folded again.

“I helped Vanessa design her final showstopper,” he says. “The brief was a birthday cake for a loved one.”

He hands her the crumbles paper and she stares at it, hands shaking as she takes it in.

It’s tiered; the bottom is green, with little sheep (made from meringue, Vanessa’s neat writing says) along the edge. The middle tier is a house, a delicate gingerbread pub with the words _The Woolpack_ piped on the side. And the top tier has a bar, made of biscuits and chocolate, and there are five figures drawn on top, to be crafted out of gingerbread too. Vanessa’s labelled them all but Charity knows who it’s supposed to be anyway. 

Something warm floods through her then, as her children watch her, smiling. Her heart feels full to the bursting and it pushes out the fear that lingers deep within her.

Vanessa’s going on television to bake her a love letter. 

And Charity’s going to be there in person to accept it.

*** 

It’s still not entirely clear to Charity how it happened. How she ended up here, on this picnic blanket with Johnny on her lap, Moses running hysterically around them, Noah perched beside her with his leg jiggling, Tracy obsessively checking her makeup in the mirror on the bench behind them, and her own heart in her throat, worrying obsessively about bloody cake.

But here she is, exchanging greetings with the bakers who have gone out in weeks past and the significant others of the other finalists who she recognises from the launch party. 

She feels a little ridiculous, in a suit sat on the lawn. But Tracy insisted and she’s almost as persuasive as her sister.

And now that she’s decided, now that her children have told her they believe in her and her ability to make this work, now that somehow, months and months of pretending have morphed into something real and wonderful, she’s desperate to see Vanessa.

And seriously, if this takes much longer she bloody storming the tent.

Despite being right outside it they can’t really see in, but a while back, some security people marched Paul Hollywood and Prue Leith past them and now Charity can’t stop fidgeting, to the point where Johnny puts his little hand on her leg and whispers “Shhh,” at one point.

“Ooooh, here they come!” Tracy squeals, and Charity leaps up so fast Johnny lets out a little squawk of protest.

Vanessa’s at the back of the short line of three, carrying a frankly enormous creation. She’s biting her lip in concentration with the effort not to drop it and when she sets it down she automatically scans the crowd.

For Charity, she knows. And that, somehow, makes the last of it slip into place. That she’s the person someone looks for. That she’s the one that makes Vanessa’s eyes go wide and her lip tremble and her mouth stretch into a smile.

Almost unconsciously she passes Johnny to Noah and moves forward, and uncaring about the cameras filming every move, Vanessa hurries towards her.

“You came.” Vanessa swallows hard and she looks close to tears, even as she’s beaming. There’s a little flour in her hair and she’s wearing the most adorable apron and Charity’s heart feels so full it might burst.

“Course I did.” Charity feels her voice filling up with emotion as well. “You must have something seriously wrong with you, wanting to put up with me, and I want to take advantage of that.”

“You can take advantage of me any time you like,” Vanessa says with a wink, and Charity shakes her head a little.

“You’ve clearly been spending too much time with me.”

“Never.” Vanessa sounds so sure about that, so certain. And Charity can’t wait any longer.

“Come here,” she whispers, and Vanessa doesn’t hesitate: she throws her arms around her and presses their lips together, and Charity slides her hands into her lightly floured hair and pulls her close.

For a moment, that’s all there is. Just her and Vanessa, their bodies wrapped around each other as they kiss.

But then some rather lewd wolf whistling penetrates the fog of happiness surrounding Charity, and she groans in protest as Vanessa pulls back, a slightly embarrassed laugh on her lips, and greets the rest of her support team. She kisses Tracy on the cheek, squeezes Johnny and Moses, and when she turns to Noah, he goes bright red and gives her a one armed hug that has Vanessa turning to her and beaming.

Charity realises suddenly that a lot of people are looking at them. Sandi Toksvig looks like she’s crying and Noel is handing her a huge, spotty handkerchief. Other contestants are clapping and grinning.

But behind them, Alice the producer is beckoning to Vanessa.

“Babe,” she says, as Vanessa presses herself against her again. “I think they want you down there. To announce the winner.”

Vanessa shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve already-“

“If you say a cheesy line like that I’m the best prize, I am changing my mind,” Charity jokes. “I’ve been worried out of my mind about your bloody cake all day. So go on.”

“And you’ll be right here?” Vanessa asks hopefully, and Charity nods.

“I promise.”

*** 

Charity watches Vanessa give her interview from just out of shot, shifting from foot to foot with impatience. She’s so proud of her, so happy, and she just wants to whisk her away to tell her that. And for a dirty smog.

The frankly huge glass cake stand is cradled in Vanessa’s arms as she talks about how much she loves the other contestants, and she can’t seem to stop crying.

Not that Charity’s in a position to judge; Noah has been making fun of her own tears endlessly.

“How does it feel to be the Great British Bakeoff champion 2019?” she’s asked.

Vanessa smiles widely. “Incredible. I still can’t believe it.” She shakes her head. “And I’m so happy that my girlfriend and my family are here to share it with me.”

“Girlfriend, eh?” Charity asks when they finally release Vanessa to her and they wrap their arms around each other.

Vanessa looks up at her. “You going to run for the hills again?”

Charity shakes her head. “I’m going nowhere babe. And neither are you.”


End file.
